Taken
by WannaBeBabe
Summary: When Stephanie's boyfriend is accused of murder and goes on the run, she finds herself in deep trouble. Time after time her life is saved by an arrogant stranger that she's torn between hating and desiring. Even as it becomes clear that he's the only person that can protect her, she doesn't know if she can risk doing the one thing that she's sworn not to do again, trust a man.
1. Chapter 1

****So, first off, I've been reading a lot of romance novels recently (probably too many). So I started Nanowrimo this year thinking that I'd like to try writing a contemporary romance. As I was thinking about what I'd like to do with my story all I could think about was…what if Stephanie Plum's story had been written as a romance novel, instead of a mystery series. Would she have ended up with one of her heroes at the end of O**** ne for the Money****? If so, which hero would she end up with? Anyway, I ended up shelving my original work and decided to try out the genre and style on a fan-fiction first.**

**Secondly, I got to thinking about the what-ifs of the Plum universe. What if Ranger and Steph were already in a relationship when she found Morelli when he skipped out on his bail? Or, what if Steph was already in a relationship with Morelli when she met Ranger that first time? I thought by changing the dynamic of the triangle it would allow for a proper romantic tale…so I started two separate stories, one told each way. **

**This is one of those two stories. (The one I reached my 50,000 word count with to win Nanowrimo. Yay.). Much like last year's nanowrimo story (Exposed) this one needs some major editing, rewriting, and another 50,000 words, in other words a lot of work. Posting on here gave me the push to finish last year's story, so I want to do that again. Plus, I've really missed being away from here. I plan to have this updated weekly at this point, perhaps twice a week if I have time for it.****

**Taken**

_****This is an AU piece, which takes place during the One for the Money time period. The characters will be similar to JE's original characters, but I will take a lot of liberties with them, alter their pasts, and let them do as I want so beware of that. You will also recognize some of the circumstances and characters that surrounded the mystery of the original story, but my version will be an entirely different tale…with a completely different ending. **_

_**Disclaimer…all characters belong to Janet, I'm just playing with them. **_

_**Warning…rated mature for violence, language, and some smut. **_

_**Please, let me know what you think of this idea and style of writing. I'd really appreciate feedback on this, especially since it's the first time I wrote something so different from canon and frankly, it makes me a little nervous to share it. So thanks for checking this out. ****_

Chapter 1

Stephanie parked her boyfriend's Cherokee at the curb in front of the Vincent Plum Bail Bonding Company, then strode into the office. She ignored his secretary's warning as she stomped past the front desk. Nothing was stopping her. She opened the closed door to the inner office, stepped inside, and slammed the door behind herself. Her cousin Vinnie was sitting behind his big desk with a porn movie running on his computer screen. She tried to ignore both the film and the fact that he was stuffing his dick back into his pants.

"Stephanie. Jesus," he grumbled. "You ever hear of knocking? Geez."

Vinnie had no reason to act like she was doing something wrong. She wasn't the one with her dick out at work. She also wasn't the one with subscriptions to several strange fetish porn clubs. Or, most importantly, the one who was planning to screw over a family member. That was all him.

Now, while having sex with a duck is sick, it can be overlooked. Selling out your own cousin, not so much. Not in Chambersburg, New Jersey. Family was supposed to mean something here. Hell, screwing over your cousin was enough to get you fitted with cement shoes in the right family. Unfortunately, their family wasn't connected like a lot of the other Italian families in the burg were, but that didn't stop Stephanie from thinking about taking his body for a drive to the Pine Barrens, just on principle.

"You can't take my house," she said as she glared back at him.

His eyebrows shot up to his slicked back hairline as he looked back at her in disbelief, then the little weasel laughed. "You put it up as collateral. Get that boyfriend of yours back to jail and I won't touch your house."

"You're scum, Vinnie," she huffed, even though she knew he was right. She had been stupid enough to put her house up in trade for her boyfriend's bail, but in her defense, she never thought he'd split and leave her with this mess. Nope, she had trusted him up until six weeks ago, when he disappeared in the middle of the night with her money and her car. He was a cop for God's sake, who wouldn't have trusted him?

"I'm scum?" Vinnie laughed as he stood and came around his desk. "At least I didn't kill no body."

"It was self-defense," she repeated for about the hundredth time since Joe was arrested. At least that's what he told her, and she was trying her best to believe him, he wasn't a liar, much. Though, if she were honest she'd admit that she was having a difficult time trusting a man who ran away without a word. If he was innocent, why did he run? Why didn't he say something to her? That's what really stuck in her craw.

"Don't matter to me," Vinnie shrugged. "I put up a quarter mil for him and I'll take the house to recover it if I have to."

Stephanie was tempted to grab him by his gold chains and strangle him, but she realized it wasn't really Vinnie's fault. No. It was Joe Morelli's for putting her in this position in the first place. "Don't you have a bounty hunter for this crap?"

He shrugged again. "I had one of my guys on it, but he had an appendectomy and can't work."

She threw her hands in the air in disbelief. "Are you shitting me? Don't you have any other guys?"

Vinnie shrugged again. "One's tied up with another job and the other wanted nothing to do with this case, so I fired his ass."

He pushed past Stephanie and walked out of his office. She followed him over to his secretary's desk. "Connie, give me the Morelli file." He took the file from Connie and gave it to Steph. "All Morty's notes are in there. Maybe that will help you find him?"

"Are you kidding me?" she screeched, still in total disbelief.

"Vinnie, that's too dangerous," Connie complained. "You can't send her down to Stark Street alone."

"Well, I'd send you with her, but you'd probably break a nail," he said waving her off like she was useless.

Connie, though, didn't wilt like he intended her to. Actually, she looked like she was going to hit him, but instead she just gave him the finger. "It's not her job, Vinnie."

"Well, I got nobody to do the job. She can go find lover boy or I'm taking her house," he announced with finality, then he turned and went back to his office. This time he wouldn't be interrupted, Steph heard the lock turn.

"Asshole," Connie muttered.

"No crap," Steph agreed as she looked back at the other woman. She bet Connie wouldn't have these problems. Connie's Family wouldn't put up with Vinnie's crap. Or Morelli's. Why couldn't her own family be more like that? She supposed it was just another way she didn't fit into the neighborhood.

Connie was the perfect Italian burg girl. She had big hair, big boobs stuffed into a tight sweater, a short skirt, tall FMP's, and perfectly manicured finger nails. Steph could rat her hair, stuff her sweater, and escalate the height of her heels all she wanted, but she'd never be burg enough to fit in fully. She always had looked more like the Hungarian side of the family than her Italian one. It made her stand out in a crowd. She was just a little too tall and a little too sturdily built. She was a little too fair, with her pale skin and medium brown hair. Plus, she could never pull off flashy and she had a bad habit of biting her nails, very un-burglike of her. No, she would never be more than average here.

Maybe that was one of the reasons she fell for Joe so easily. He was the catch of the burg, the Italian Stallion, the guy all the girls wanted, but he wanted her. It had given her a little thrill and made her feel like she belonged more than anything else ever had. She sighed loudly, ashamed of her own thoughts.

"You're not really going after Joe, are you?" Connie asked.

"If I don't, I'll be homeless," Steph answered with a shrug.

"You should castrate that little prick when you find him," Connie said, as she nodded her head in agreement with her own words. "What kind of man runs out on his girl like that?"

"With all her money, and her car," Steph bitched in agreement.

"Asshole," Connie hissed again, this time about Morelli.

"No crap," Steph agreed again.

Sadly, that was it, her life in a nut shell, screwed over by man. Again.

She knew she didn't have a fantastic life, but it was the one she had and she wasn't going to give up on it now. This entire mess was her fault for trusting Joe when she knew better. So it had to be up to her to fix it, and she would. No matter what it took.

She sat down on the brown leather couch that faced Connie's desk and went through the file. Clipped to the folder were three photos of Joe. As she studied them, she felt her anger bubble up to the surface again. It was no wonder she fell for his crap, the man was sex on legs.

"Why are all the hot ones such shits?" Connie asked as she looked over Steph's shoulder.

And there it was, the mistake she and all other women made. They were caught up in the smoke and mirrors, imagining these hot guys were everything they wanted when in truth they were banging half of Trenton behind their backs or secretly stealing from them. "It's a cruel world," Steph answered as she pulled out the photos for a better look.

"But, damn, look at him," Connie sighed. Steph didn't have to look, she knew. Joe was probably the hottest guy in Trenton. He was certainly the hottest guy to ever give her an orgasm. She didn't want to look at him. She didn't want to be reminded of what she lost, but she was weak. She couldn't help but look at the photos anyway.

Two were professional shots, one of Joe in his police uniform from a few years ago and the other was of him in a dark blue suit, which made him look like he belonged on the set of The Sopranos. The third photo was a candid of Joe walking in a parking lot, wearing jeans and the brown leather jacket that Steph liked him in so much. He looked rugged and sexy as hell in that jacket.

Steph sighed again, Joe's brown hair was all shaggy and curled around the leather collar on the photo. She thought about how soft his hair was. Ugh. It just wasn't fair that he looked that way. His face was movie star handsome, especially when he smiled that naughty little knowing smile at her. And the eyes, they were this rich chocolate brown that turned molten when he was turned on. She loved his eyes. And God, she knew how sexy he was without the jacket, or anything else.

She touched the photo with her fingertip as she felt a longing for him hit her like a brick. Ugh, she hated that he could do that to her with just a photo. Even when she was mad as hell he made her doodah react.

"Asshole," she whispered.

She wasn't supposed to be missing him. In fact, she was done with Joe Morelli. When she found him she'd tell him to go to hell, where he belonged. She wasn't going to give him the chance to screw with her again. He already had more chances to do that than she cared to admit.

Joe had grown up around the corner from her family. They had some childhood interludes that couldn't be called innocent, and she easily to fell victim to his fast talking ways when she was sixteen. That's when he took her virginity. Well, she willingly gave it up, thinking he loved her, but she learned her lesson the hard way. He never called her after that night, even though she prayed he would. Even though she waited for him to call and watched for his car to pull up at her house. Even though her heart broke a little more with each passing hour, until she realized he'd used her, just like all the other women he'd seduced. She wasn't different. She wasn't special. She was nothing to him.

That's when she learned love wasn't a real thing, it was just part of the imagination. Something we pretended to feel to justify the things we do for and with other people. It couldn't be real, because the warm feelings she had for Joe turned to hatred in just a few short days. Unfortunately, she had to learn that lesson a few more times before it stuck. At least, she hoped it stuck this time.

She can't explain why she gave Joe another chance after that night, but when they met again a few years ago it was all different. There was still an attraction, but they didn't fall back into the sack immediately either. They talked, hung out a few times, and after almost a year of flirting, on both their parts, he asked her out on a date. The rest, as they say, was history. They've been together since. Or were until he took off for parts unknown.

Yes, logic told her not to trust Joe after he broke her heart once, but another part of her wanted him, bad. So she convinced herself that he was a different man than he was all those years ago. She made herself believe he had changed. Sure, he was still able to talk her out of her panties on the first date, but as far as she knew, she was the only woman he was consorting with this time around. She figured that meant he really did love her, that she wasn't just one of the masses again. But who was she kidding, he was still Joe Morelli and apparently she didn't know him as well as she thought she did.

She sighed loudly, again, and closed the file. Maybe she was stupid enough to have given him a second chance, but it wouldn't happen again. She was going to find him, haul his ass back to jail, save her house, and give the man a piece of her mind once and for all. She was done with men. Especially hot ones that ruined her panties, definitely those men.


	2. Chapter 2

_****First, thank you for the great feedback and the interest in this new story. **_

_**Second, this chapter will echo the book a little more than the first did, but it's more of an information gathering chapter than anything and I, of course, changed things to my benefit. So, hang in there I promise something better and more original to come. **_

_**Third, if you stay with me I promise we'll meet Ranger in the next chapter. Thanks again.****_

Chapter 2

The next day, Stephanie walked into Pino's Restaurant at eleven thirty on the dot. She inhaled the delicious aromas and felt her stomach growl. The place was a complete dive, but it sure smelled good. She took a look around as she walked down the narrow aisle between the counter on the left hand side that held stools and a pick-up window and the right hand side which was a line of booths that went all the way to the back wall.

She noticed the place was filled with the usual lunch crowd, which was mostly cops and hospital employees. Then it struck her how weird it was walking in there without Joe. She briefly wondered if it would always feel like their place before realizing how quiet the place got when she stepped in.

Normally she got a lot of attention this time of day. There was usually some teasing, some quick chats, even some flirting with the guys. Today she didn't get any of the usual fanfare from the cops, they just nodded at her somberly as she walked by.

It really felt like Joe left his stink all over her when he got suspended, at least that's the only reasoning she could come up with to explain the behavior of his former friends. Most ignored her, which was fine, but a few had been outright hostile when she ran into them, that she didn't understand at all. It's not like she had anything to do with his job or his suspension. She knew nothing, so why treat her as if she was a criminal too? It didn't make sense. She guessed, if nothing else, this whole mess had been a good lesson in learning who her real friends were. She certainly had, and the men that occupied the booth ahead no longer fit that bill.

She let her eyes drift to the floor to avoid the uncomfortable eye contact from Joe's former group of friends, she wasn't in a mood to deal with them today. Instead she gave her attention to some straw wrappers and crumbs, which she kicked at as she passed their table. Of course the straw wrappers didn't treat her any better than the cops. She rolled her eyes at that thought as she tried to get the wrappers off her shoes. They were completely stuck, of course.

That was just her luck, but what did she expect? Pino's restaurant wasn't the cleanest or the hippest place in town, but they did have delicious pizza and cheap tap beer. She figured the draw was all in the sauce, the stuff was amazing. She and everyone else here were willing to ignore the trash on the floor for one of Pino's meatball subs any day.

Once she passed the cops' table she stopped to look around for her lunch date, Eddie Gazzara. Eddie was a true friend, through and through. He grew up a few houses down from Steph, so they've been friends since they were in diapers. Plus, he's been married to her cousin Shirley for the past eleven years, so he's family. Yet the real reason she called Eddie for lunch today was that he works as a sergeant for the Trenton Police Department. She needed some insider information on Morelli and Eddie was one of the few that still spoke to her.

He waved from a back booth, catching her attention, so she walked over and slipped in across from him. "How's it going, Steph?"

"Not so great." He nodded and pushed a Coke toward her. "You hear anything on Morelli's case?"

He frowned and shook his head. "No way. Nobody's talking about anything. If Morelli's name is spoken at the station, everyone scatters like they got somewhere else to be."

"Well, I need to find him or I lose my house. Vinnie's filing paperwork in two weeks."

Eddie whistled at that. "Is there any way to stop it?"

"Yeah, by hauling Morelli's ass back to jail." It's not like she had two-hundred fifty grand sitting around to pay off the debt.

"A cop in jail isn't a good thing, Steph. He put a lot of scum behind bars. They'll want to get even with his ass," Eddie warned.

She knew that, it was one of the reasons she bailed him out in the first place. She couldn't see letting him sit in jail like a target. It wasn't like she wanted to post bail, but no one in his family had enough assets to do it. It was her or nothing, and she didn't want to risk the scum getting even with his fine ass. God. It really was a fine ass too, probably the best ass in Trenton.

Not that any of that mattered now. He betrayed her and the only thing she was planning to do with that fine ass of his was kick it when she found him. "Well, it's me or him, and I'd rather not be homeless."

"I doubt he wants you homeless either."

She snorted at that. Eddie was forever the optimist. He thought every couple could be as happy as Shirley and he were. Steph hated to burst his bubble, but she didn't believe that she and Morelli had a snowball's chance in hell of working things out this time. No, Joe might not want to financially ruin her life, but he obviously didn't care if it happened. He valued himself over everyone else. He always had. "If he didn't want me to be homeless he wouldn't have skipped his court date. He knew exactly what he was doing."

"It's his life you're talking about," Eddie said with a shrug.

Steph rolled her eyes. She knew that, he didn't have to keep pointing it out to her. "He should have told me he was going to run then," she hissed. "I had the right to know before he stole from me. Hell, I would have helped him if he'd asked." And that was true. She didn't want him dead in jail either, but there had to be a better way to solve things than by running away. As much as she didn't want to lose everything because of Joe's lies, what really bothered her was being his victim again. That she couldn't deal with. That's what really hurt. He walked away like she meant nothing to him. Again.

Eddie patted her hand. "Don't give up hope on him. He loves you."

"He has a weird way of showing it," she growled back at him as she snatched her hand away.

Eddie just shrugged. "Most guys do."

Wasn't that the truth! If only she could say Joe was the worst guy she'd been with over the years. But she didn't want to think about that right now. She'd have time to feel sorry for herself later. Now was about finding Morelli.

She pulled out the file Vinnie had given her and opened it on the table. "Can you look at this with me?"

Eddie turned the folder toward himself and scanned the information. He frowned as he looked up at her. "Where did you get this?"

"From Vinnie. His bounty hunter had his appendix out, so no one is looking for Joe."

"Oh, Jesus," he said turning the pages while frowning even harder. "You're not thinking about looking for Morelli on your own, are you?"

She shrugged this time. "It's me or no one, and I need him found. Soon."

Eddie ran his fingers through his short, blond hair and shook his head. "Crap. Stephanie, I don't like you getting involved in this. Something about it really stinks."

She turned the file sideways between them and opened it to a collection of news articles she'd added the night before. "Like all the witnesses disappearing?" she asked as she pointed to what she'd found.

Eddie leaned over the table, bringing himself closer to her. "This isn't a game, Steph. Two of the witnesses dropped dead, from accidents, in the last couple weeks," he told her. "A hit and run and an apparent suicide, jumped out a window."

She already knew that. She read the clippings. "And you don't think they were accidents?" she asked, trying to confirm what she thought.

He leaned back and scrubbed his hand over his face like he didn't want to be talking about any of it. "There's no proof of anything," he said giving her the official police answer. "It just feels way too convenient."

Great. That's what she thought too. "So why kill the witnesses?"

Eddie shook his head. He wasn't going to say anything else. "That answer isn't something you want to find out, no matter what it is," he warned.

She flipped open the police report and pointed to Joe's statement. "Hasn't anyone found anything? Joe was working on something down on Stark Street around that time. Has anyone been asking questions over there?" she asked.

Eddie's eyes narrowed, glaring at her in definite cop mode. "For Christ's sake, Stephanie. Stay away from Stark Street. Don't you dare go poking around where you don't belong. It's too dangerous." She knew that. The Stark Street neighborhood was a hotbed of drugs, hookers, and gang violence. She'd have to be stupid to go there, or desperate…which she was.

She felt like she had to check out Stark Street. Everything in that file tied to something on Stark Street. And whatever that something happened to be, had to be the key to putting together the puzzle filling her head. It had to be the key to finding Joe. She just knew it.

The evening of the murder Joe had the night off, they were watching a baseball game together. During the fourth inning, just when he managed to unhook her bra and get his lips wrapped around her nipple, he got a mysterious phone call. Normally he'd check the number and turn the phone off if sex was on the menu, but he didn't that night so she knew it was work.

After the phone call, he said he had to go check a lead on a case. It didn't strike her as weird at the time. He had to leave suddenly for work all the time. He never explained what he was working on and it never occurred to her to ask. He was a vice detective. He had a lot of secrets and a lot of undercover work that took him away for days at a time. The only thing she asked that night was if he would be coming back after the job or not. He said he'd only be a few hours, so she waited. Only a few hours later Morelli wasn't back and she got a call from Carl Costanza, one of the other cops, telling her that Joe had been arrested for murder. That was when she got interested in what he'd been working on.

When she asked, Joe told her that he was meeting one of his informants, a woman named Carmen Sanchez. The call he received that night had been from Carmen. She said that she had something important to tell him and he should hurry because she thought she might be in danger. Joe said that when he got to her apartment, Carmen wasn't there, but there were two men inside the apartment waiting for him. One fired a gun as soon as he stepped inside. Joe fired back, hitting and killing him.

He said he wasn't sure what happened after that. Someone hit him across the back of the head. When he woke up he was surrounded by Carmen's neighbors, a group of cops, and the body of Ziggy Kulesza, the guy he shot. There was no sign of Ziggy's gun or that a shot was fired by Ziggy, the other man that'd been with Ziggy was gone, Carmen still hadn't surfaced, and there was no proof that Joe fired in self-defense.

Stephanie honestly had no reason to think Joe would lie to her about any of that. In fact, he would never have given her that much information if it weren't true. She knew how Joe's lies worked. If he didn't want her to know, he wouldn't have said a word. He had lying by omission down to an art form.

Plus, even as mad as Steph was, she had to admit that Joe may be an arrogant, man-whore, but he's not a cold-blooded killer. He wouldn't shoot a man if there wasn't a reason to do so. So the only conclusion she could come to was that Joe had been set up, but by who? Carmen? Ziggy? The other man? And why?

That's why she had to go to Stark Street. Stephanie didn't know anything about Joe's secret, undercover life. She'd never even heard of Carmen Sanchez before he was arrested that night. What if he had something going on with her? What if it was a crime of passion? What if Carmen was the one that set him up? "Was Carmen dating Kulesza?" Steph asked suddenly.

Eddie crinkled up his nose, like the thought was so awful he couldn't imagine it. "The informant?" he asked.

She looked back down at the snapshot of Carmen that had been in the file. She was pretty, young, and had a rack that was twice the size of her own. Yeah, she could see Joe doing something stupid with a girl like her. "Yeah," she said nodding her head fiercely. She had to be onto something here. "You think maybe she was sleeping with both Kulesza and Morelli? Maybe that's what they'd been fighting about that night?"

Eddie rolled his eyes. "I think you're nuts and that you should leave it alone."

"Seriously, Eddie, come on. Crimes of passion, that's how it works in the movies," she explained.

Eddie laughed sarcastically and shook his head. "This ain't a movie, Steph. Seriously, stay out of it." She gave him a hard look in complete disagreement. "Besides, I heard she was seeing Benito Ramirez, not Kulesza."

"Ramirez? The boxer?" she asked, kind of surprised by that. She figured Carmen was one of the Stark Street gang girls, not some local celebrity's girlfriend. So how exactly did a boxer's girlfriend become an informant? What could she possibly know? "Has anyone spoken to her since then?"

"Nope, she disappeared," he said with a meaningful look.

Steph grabbed the file and scanned it again. There was nothing in there about Carmen missing. "Just like the other witnesses and Ziggy's gun? Why isn't she listed as one of the missing witnesses?"

"Because there was no sign that she'd ever been there that night," Eddie shrugged. "Steph, I think you need to forget this now. Everyone who gets close to this disappears."

She shook her head. She heard the warning, but was too invested now. She couldn't help but want to know what happened that night, and why. "You think Joe was set up, don't you?"

Eddie nodded his head. "I don't know anything more than you do about that night, but I do know that Morelli was working on something big. Something off the books. I think he got too close to finding evidence on whatever it was. I think they were planning to kill him that night, but the neighbors heard his gun fire and interrupted things. And I think if you go poking around, they'll kill you too."

Stephanie heard Eddie, she really did, but her mind wouldn't stop working on the information rolling around in her brain. Morelli was working on something big, a secret case he never talked about. What could it have been? Did he find something he shouldn't have? What did he find and what did it have to do with Carmen Sanchez? What could a waitress, dating a boxer, know about anything? Did it have to do with the bar she worked at? Or did it have something to do with her boyfriend? Stephanie guessed it was the later, but if that was true, what did it mean?

Most women were loyal to their boyfriends. They'd cover up all kinds of shit for them. Steph grew up in a neighborhood where loyalty to both your family and your lover were more than just expected, they were demanded. She didn't like the conclusion she came to, but if Carmen was ready to turn on her boyfriend there was only one explanation. Joe Morelli had seduced her into it.

Finding Carmen seemed like the key to the entire mess. If she could just find out what the other woman knew, what she'd been doing with Morelli, then she would find Joe. Yes, if Steph knew Joe, and she thought she did, she knew he wouldn't run far. No, he'd have come to the same conclusion as her. He'd go only far enough to find Carmen and clear his name. He was still close, probably on Stark Street. She just needed to find him.

And now, thanks to Eddie, she knew where to start looking. Benito Ramirez.

Eddie stared at her with those cop eyes of his. He knew exactly what she was thinking. "Ah, shit, Steph," he sighed. "Please don't you go sticking your nose into this mess. These are bad people. I don't know how else to warn you. They're killers. They'll kill you. Just stay home and forget everything you read. Hand over the house to Vinnie, it's better than handing over your life."

"Yeah, sure," she agreed. "I didn't know it was so dangerous. I just wanted to find Joe is all." So maybe her fingers were crossed under the table.

He smiled and nodded as he closed the folder. "Good. Now, what are you doing Saturday night? We need a sitter."

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Stephanie pulled up to her parent's house at five to six, which was a good thing. If she wasn't in her chair by six, her mother's day was ruined. As well as the pot roast, though Stephanie was sure an extra five minutes wouldn't hurt the beef one way or another. Her mother on the other hand would be calling the police, convinced she was dead in a ditch somewhere.

Now, Steph could appreciate her mother worrying, but she knew the real reason her mother fussed and complained when Steph was late. Helen didn't want to look bad and wasn't going to allow Stephanie to ruin her position in the neighborhood.

Yep. Dinner at six on the dot was one of the unwritten rules of Chambersburg. Her mother lived by those rules, heck, she lived _for_ those rules. If a burg housewife broke one of those rules everyone knew it, and everyone judged. Helen wasn't about to let them have anything bad to say about her. To Helen it was much better sitting at the top, looking down at all those pathetic women whose lives weren't as well managed as her own. Helen Plum wanted to be the queen and did everything in her power to try to make her family conform to the rules too.

Yes. If they would have made a real housewives of Chambersburg show, Helen would have been one of the stars. Her dinner was always ready at six. Her pot roast was always perfect. Her home was always clean. Her windows sparkled, her phone never stopped ringing with all the latest gossip, and her husband's boxer shorts were ironed and starched to perfection. Helen was what all the burg housewives wanted to be. Helen only wished that all she did for her family would rub off on her youngest daughter someday.

Steph, though, she didn't even pretend to want to live by any of the burg's rules. She had no desire to remarry. She did it once and wasn't about to go through that again. She couldn't cook. She didn't even want to. It was much easier to call Pinos for a delivery. And as far as kids were concerned, she'd rather eat her own arm than have a baby. Being responsible for another life scared the hell out of her. She didn't even own a vacuum cleaner for God's sake.

No, as far as Steph was concerned, moving to Hamilton Township was one of the best things she'd ever done. It was only a ten minute drive to her parent's house, or anywhere else she wanted to go in Chambersburg, but her mother had a hard time getting gossip about her from that far away. There were no nosey neighbors calling to say Joe's truck had been parked outside all night. There was no gossip about how many times she ordered food. There was no one judging her weed covered lawn or dirty windows or the fact that she didn't have a statue of The Virgin out front. Her life was finally her own and it was liberating. That was why she needed to hang onto her house so badly, it was her freedom.

The idea of losing the house was almost physically painful to Stephanie. She knew if she lost the house she'd be sucked right back into the burg, and her mother's clutches. She'd have to move back home. She'd be subjected to the neighborhood gossip about her and Morelli. She'd be subjected to her mother's endless prattle about her lack of a husband and children. Ugh, and yes, she knew her mother meant well, but she was always meddling in her life. Always. Steph learned to live with it from afar, but under the same roof, no way. Her mother would kill her, if Steph didn't kill her mother first.

But it wasn't just the issue of her freedom, the reasons not to move back home were nearly endless. Her parent's house was a small two story, duplex with three bedrooms and a bath upstairs and a kitchen, living room, and dining room downstairs. It wasn't made to accommodate four adults. In fact, Stephanie thought it was already too crowded with just her parents and her grandma living there. It only took one morning of listening to her dad and grandma fighting over the one bathroom to make her appreciate living alone. Plus she was almost thirty. She was supposed to be an adult with her life figured out by now. It'd just be pathetic to move back home now. Not to mention the fact that she'd have no privacy at all. She definitely needed privacy to engage in certain co-ed adult activities her mom wouldn't approve of.

Losing her house felt like she'd be losing all the independence she fought so hard to gain for herself. She didn't like relying on others or feeling beholden to them. Both of which her mom would bully her into feeling. Her mother would have her under her thumb, tricking her into doing as she says, and Steph wouldn't be able to get out without another fight. Nope. No way was she moving back in with them. She'd find Morelli, or live on the streets first. Those were her only choices.

As Steph started walking up to the house she'd grown up in, Grandma Mazur opened the front door, almost like she'd been waiting for Steph to arrive. Steph waved to her as she silently snickered at the hot pink, velour track suit the older woman was wearing. Not that there was anything wrong with the outfit, it just wasn't grandmotherly, especially since it said SEXY across the butt. And no, she didn't think the word sexy described her Grandma Mazur now, or probably ever.

Steph didn't remember what Grandma Mazur looked like when she was young, but she did know that Grandma had shrunk a few inches over the years. The things that used to be in the normal spots, now hung a few inches lower than they should. She also had enough loose skin hanging off her slight frame to build another grandma. So to say the outfit fit poorly would be an understatement, plus, combined with her tightly curled, short, gray hair, the hot pink color completely washed her out. Steph would never tell Grandma Mazur that though. She loved that her grandma lived her life so freely, without worry over what people would say about her. Steph envied that in her.

"You're still driving Joe's truck?" Grandma asked as she followed Steph into the house and closed the door.

"Well, he didn't bring my car back yet," she answered, feeling herself getting pissed off at Morelli all over again. She knew she'd never see her car again, even if she found Joe. There was no way he was driving around in something so flashy.

She had a perfectly nice little, red Mazda Miata. Why he took her car instead of his Jeep, she still doesn't know, but she isn't happy about it. The jeep isn't a pretty little girly car. It isn't convertible. It doesn't have scented crystals hanging from the rearview mirror. Nope. That jeep uses way too much gas, is really hard to parallel park, and smells like Old Spice. Plus, it reminded her of Joe, which didn't make her like the damn thing any better.

Another thing that didn't improve her mood was when she walked into the dining room and saw that the table was set for five, instead of four. Her mother was doing it again! "Why are there five plates?" she asked loudly.

Her mother bustled out of the kitchen in her apron, with a wooden spoon still in her hand. "Now, don't get yourself worked up. I ran into a nice young man you went to school with today." Crap.

"And you invited him to dinner?" Steph groaned. This was what her mother always did when she was single. "You do know that I'm still with Joe, right?" Of course, they all knew that was totally questionable, but it didn't give her mother the right to set her up, again.

"Joseph Morelli stole from you, then he ran out on you in the middle of the night. I've been telling you that boy was nothing but trouble since kindergarten, when will you learn?" her mother complained. That was a good question. Steph wished she could learn, but as far as Morelli was concerned, she was an idiot. His smile did something to her brain, it short circuited her thoughts until all she could think about was how good he was with that lizard-like tongue of his. "You need to settle down with a nice young man, get married, and have some children. That will make you happy." Steph knew it wouldn't, though it'd make her mother veryhappy. She sighed and tossed her handbag onto the empty chair that stood in the corner of the room.

"You could marry Morelli and have those conjugal visits with him. I always wanted to have sex with a prisoner. I bet they'd be real hungry for a woman," Grandma said with an eyebrow waggle.

Eww, and probably diseased. "Not in this lifetime, or the next," Steph mumbled as she shivered with disgust over both the thought of having sex in a prison and the thought of her grandmother wanting to, but her mom and grandma didn't seem to notice her reaction. They were caught up in their own mother-daughter struggle.

"Mother!" her mom complained.

"Lighten up, Helen," Grandma complained back. "I was just saying the girl can marry whoever she wants. She does need your help finding men."

Ugh. "I don't want to get married again," Steph told them both. "Being married only netted me the worst year of my life."

"That's because your husband was a horse's patoot," Grandma told her. Steph agreed. Dickie Orr was a lawyer, and a patoot. He treated her well before their wedding, but four months into the marriage she came home from work and found him bare ass on her new dining room table being ridden by Joyce Barnhardt, her high school arch nemesis, like she was a contender in the Kentucky Derby.

The only good thing to come out of that marriage was that Dickie wanted everything kept quiet so he could still run for office someday. To shut Steph up he gave her the house, her car, and some cash. She wasn't happy about taking a settlement, but she figured he owed her something after what he did.

"I don't know why you can't be more like your sister. She's been married twelve years and is perfectly happy," her mother whined. Steph rolled her eyes, she should have known that argument was coming. Her sister Valerie was a saint, with her rich investment broker husband, and two perfect little girls. Steph was a fuck up that dated criminals and doubled up on her birth control. Boy did her mother hate that.

"I'm not marrying, God, is that Bernie Kuntz?" Steph asked peering out the front window at the man walking up the sidewalk.

"He's single and doing very well for himself at his electronics store, and he asked about you," her mother told her as Grandma went to let him in.

Oh boy. Bernie Kuntz was exactly like he was in grade school. He was kind of overweight, wearing khaki pants and a brown polo shirt, he smelled of CK One, and wore brown loafers for God's sake. He was not the future father of her children. There was no way she could get naked with him no matter how nice he was. In fact, she thought her ovaries shriveled just thinking about it.

After introductions her dad came to the table, took one look at Bernie, and shook his head. "I thought you were still dating the cop?" he asked Steph.

Bernie looked at Steph with wide eyes. "I thought you and Morelli broke up?" Then he hazarded a glance at her mother, who was loading the table with dishes of food, but Helen ignored the question. Clearly she was guilty of telling the poor guy exactly that.

Steph shook her head no. "We're still together. He's just been out of town."

No one argued or pointed out the fact that Steph may never see Joe again. They all just took their seats and started to load up their plates. Steph's family was letting the subject go like they always did, but Bernie didn't get the message. "I knew the guy Morelli killed, Ziggy Kulesza. He used to go to the butcher shop across the street from my store. I even sold him a TV once."

Steph looked up at him with real interest. That tidbit was definitely worth her time. "You ever see Morelli there?" she asked, but Bernie shook his head no. "How about Benito Ramirez?"

"Oh, sure, I saw him a couple times, with Ziggy. Ziggy was working as a bodyguard for Ramirez. You know how fans can get," he said, acting like he had access to a real celebrity.

"Oh, sure," Steph agreed even as she fought the urge to roll her eyes at him. "He must have to fight women off too. I guy like that probably has groupies."

"I heard those guys in the WWE have groupies in every town. I wouldn't mind The Rock taking a crack at me," Grandma Mazur added with an eyebrow waggle. Steph fought the urge to remind her that The Rock wasn't a wrestler anymore, but that would be admitting that she watched it herself.

"Benito isn't like that," Bernie argued. "His girlfriend's a real beauty."

Bingo. "Like a model?" Steph asked innocently.

"Could have been, but she was waiting tables at Mel's last time I heard," he said. "Ziggy had to guard her sometimes too. There were a couple customers that got a little handsy with her, if you know what I mean."

"I do," Steph agreed.

Bernie smiled at her. "I'm sure you do. That's a curse for pretty women like you." Steph contained the groan that almost left her mouth and smiled instead.

Bernie seemed to misread her interest in the conversation, and in him. "So, what do you do Steph?"

Nothing, she thought. She'd gotten laid off about six months ago. She'd been working temp jobs and living off the alimony settlement she got from The Dick. Again, they'd only been married four months so it wasn't like he had to pay her, but he did it in exchange for her signing a non-disclosure agreement. Their private affairs, or more like his affairs, were officially a secret. The thing was, she hadn't told her parents about her job loss so she lied to Bernie. "I'm a lingerie buyer, for EE Martin in Newark."

Bernie got that dopey look all guys get when they think about her in lingerie. Yuck. Steph nearly barfed up her dinner.

"Stephanie doesn't need a bodyguard," her dad interrupted. "I got a gun. And so does her boyfriend."

Stephanie hid her grin behind her napkin, but Bernie got the message loud and clear. Luckily he didn't say anything further on the subject, he just ate his pot roast like a good burg boy. After dessert he thanked her mom, hugged Steph, and told her to give him a call if things with Joe didn't work out. All in all he seemed like a nice guy, but she certainly wasn't interested.

Luckily, she wouldn't call the night a complete bust. If her mother wouldn't have tried to match make again she may not have gotten the information she needed. Now she finally had something that tied Carmen Sanchez and Ziggy Kulesza together. That would be one, Benito Ramirez.

Carmen was his girlfriend and Kulesza was his bodyguard. Now she just needed to know how Morelli fit into that picture.

Maybe Steph wasn't wrong. Maybe it was a crime of passion after all. Maybe Ramirez sent Kulesza to do the dirty work for him? She knew there was only one way to get to the truth. She'd have to do a little more digging on her own.


	3. Chapter 3

_****Thanks again for the interest you're showing in this one. I know, it's a little slow going, but we're going to pick up some pace here as my story takes off. So, let me know what you think of Ranger and Steph's meeting, love to get some feedback on their interaction. Oh, and the next chapter will all be from Ranger's view point, so look for that. Thanks again.****_

Chapter 3

Steph planned to wake up early, but it was more like eleven when she dragged herself out to Joe's SUV in search of coffee and sugar. She hit the drive-thru at Dunkin Donuts and fulfilled both needs without having to get out of the vehicle. It made her appreciate both America and our modern conveniences a little more.

Then she tried to ignore the nagging feeling that she should turn around and go home as she headed down to Stark Street. She figured noon on a Thursday was probably the safest time of day to visit. It wasn't like she was going to be walking the street, looking for trouble. She was going to the gym that Ramirez was known to train at. The gym would be full of people, i.e. witnesses. Besides, it was a professional gym with great reviews, it just happened to be in a bad neighborhood. The people there would be just like people in every other gym she'd gone to. There was no reason to worry. Probably.

Still, as she pulled to the side of the road, a block down from the gym, she began to second guess herself again. That feeling was back, stronger than it was before. She usually didn't ignore a feeling like that, but she couldn't back down now, not even if she wanted to. She had a lot riding on this, like everything she owned. So she squared her shoulders and marched down the block toward the front entrance.

She tried to ignore the faces that peeked out from behind the glassless, blanket covered windows. She also tried to ignore the honks from the few cars that slowed down to drive past her. Mostly, though, she tried to ignore the appreciative looks from some gangbangers that sat on a cement porch across the street and hooted at her.

Yeesh. She felt like she was on parade or something. All eyes were on her, like she was a freak show or something. Her little navy blue suit and heels were completely out of place. She'd have fit in a lot better in a spandex tank and cut off shorts, she supposed that was something to remember if she ever came back.

"What the hell are you doing here, white girl? This here's my corner," one of the prostitutes shouted at her.

Stephanie turned to look at the other woman. She was wearing a spandex dress, which was hot pink with a black leopard print design. She was a few inches shorter and about seventy pounds heavier than Stephanie's five foot seven, one hundred twenty pound frame. Those weren't the only differences. This woman's skin was dark enough to make Steph look doughy next to her, her black hair was straightened and had hot pink highlights to match her dress, plus she had a chest large enough to spill out of the low neck of the dress.

Steph felt absolutely plain next to this woman. Steph's hair was a tangle of frizzy curls which she had pinned up into a messy bun, the only make-up she wore was mascara, and her chest was on the smaller side of average. It didn't spill from anything without a lot of help. The only thing they had in common were their three inch heels. No, there was no way to mistake them for working the same corner, at least in Steph's mind. "Oh, I'm not working here. I'm just looking for someone," Steph assured her.

The hooker gave her a sideways glare like she didn't believe her though. "Oh yeah? Who you lookin' for?"

Stephanie pulled out one of the photos of Joe that she'd taken from the file. The other woman leaned in to take a look. "Joe Morelli, you know him?"

The hooker took a quick step back. "I know him, he's a cop. You ain't a cop, are ya? Cops give me the runs. I think I'm getting a stomachache, right now," she told Steph dramatically.

"No. I'm not a cop. I'm his girlfriend. He stole my cash and my car when he took off a few weeks ago. Now I need to find him or I'm going to lose my house too." She figured appealing to the other woman as someone screwed over by a cop would get her the answers she needed.

"Well, shiiit," the hooker mumbled. "I ain't seen him around in a good month."

Stephanie sighed, that's just what she thought. "I figured, thanks a lot…"

"Lula," the hooker said extending her hand, so Stephanie shook it. "You got a name and a number I can reach you at, case I see his dumb ass lurking around here again?"

Stephanie smiled back at her. "Stephanie Plum," she said introducing herself as she pulled out an old business card and scribbled her cell number on it. "Thank you so much, Lula. I'd appreciate the help."

"We girls got to stick together," she agreed.

"Lula, have you happened to see a little red Mazda Miata driving around, it's a convertible?" she asked hopefully.

Lula whistled. "That's what he stole?" Stephanie nodded back. "I ain't seen it and I woulda remembered a little car like that."

"I figured he would've ditched it by now, but it was worth asking," she sighed.

A SUV slowed down and pulled to the curb. Stephanie looked up as the window rolled down. "Ladies, either of you looking to party?" an older gentleman asked.

Stephanie squinted her eyes and looked into the darkened vehicle. "Mr. Gorvich?" she asked.

"Stephanie?" he blinked. "I didn't know you…did this."

She blinked back. That dirty old man. He was one of Joe's neighbors, the one who liked to spy on them, but this was a whole different level of yuck. "Five hundred bucks," she told him. His eyes widened and his mouth seemed to water.

"For the basics. Anything more than missionary will cost you," Lula added. "And three hundred more for oral."

The pervert just shook his head. "Maybe next time then. How about you?" he asked Lula.

"You think I'm worth less than her? Is that because she's white?" Lula yelled at him.

"No, no, of course not," he agreed. "That's just a little out of my budget." He rolled up his window and drove away, quickly.

"Asshole," Lula muttered. "I'm worth a grand."

"Sure," Stephanie agreed, even though she had no idea what the going rate was.

The group of gangbangers across the street were laughing loudly at the show. "Lula! You blew me for a bucket of chicken last week," one of them yelled to her.

She flipped him off and turned her back on the group. "Just ignore that fucker. I was hungry."

Stephanie smiled back as she caught the genuine smile on the guy's face before her eyes were drawn to the man sitting next to him. He was casually leaning back onto the steps with his legs stretched out in front of himself. At a quick glance he gave off the appearance of being completely relaxed, but she didn't believe it for a second. He seemed to take in everything around him. Every sight, every sound, every person, including her.

She swallowed hard as his eyes bore into hers. He wasn't smiling like his friends. He was assessing her and she didn't like it. She felt like he could see all the things she was trying so hard to hide: her self-doubt, her crumbling strength, her fear. She quickly turned away. She didn't want him to see anymore. Not that turning away helped. Even without him in her line of sight, she could still feel his eyes on her, and the problem was…it wasn't completely unpleasant. She was definitely growing warm under his scrutiny. "He a customer?" she asked Lula about the chicken-bucket-guy.

"He wishes," Lula grumbled. "I don't mess with gangs."

"Me either," Steph agreed as she glanced back over her shoulder at Mr. Intense. She licked her lips nervously as she allowed her eyes to travel over his body. She wasn't sorry she took a second look. The guy looked like he had arms of steel, and a chest of steel, and shoulders so broad and solid they were probably steel too. She glanced down at his jeans, suddenly wondering what else was like steel. Yikes. Her thought were becoming way too dangerous to linger any longer. "Um, Lula, do you know where I can find Benito Ramirez? Is this the gym he trains at?"

Lula's back straightened and she looked around nervously. "You stay away from him. He's trouble you don't want."

"This is the gym he works out at though, right?" Steph asked again.

"Shit, you ain't gonna listen, are you?" Lula grumbled with her hands on her hips.

"I think he knows something about Morelli."

"You better hope he don't," she mumbled. "Go home, forget about them both. That's what I'd do."

Steph sighed again. She already made it this far. Surely it wouldn't hurt just to meet Ramirez. "I can't."

Lula shook her head. "You're crazy, girl."

Stephanie shrugged and hiked her bag up onto her shoulder. "Crazy is all I have left."

"I hear ya," Lula agreed with a shake of her head, then she walked away muttering to herself about crazy, white girls looking for trouble.

Steph looked at the front door of the gym and felt that ominous feeling hit her like a ton of bricks. She wished that she had the option of going home and forgetting about it all, but she didn't. If she didn't do this, soon there would be no home. So she walked up the dirty stairs to the third floor and stepped into the gym.

Again, all eyes were on her. "Well, la de dah, what do we have here?" one of the men asked looking her up and down. "You look a little too fancy for this side of town, baby. You lost?"

Her eyes roamed the room. There were at least a dozen large men working on machines or weight benches, all watching her curiously. Beyond that was a large boxing ring and a row of punching bags, with another half dozen men punching at them. Or at least they had been until they stopped to look at Steph. They weren't friendly looks either.

"Uh, hi, I'm looking for Benito Ramirez."

The man nodded toward the ring. "Course you are, they always are," he laughed as he pointed toward the ring.

Stephanie didn't feel like arguing that she wasn't there to sleep with Ramirez, so she lifted her chin and walked over to the ring. There were two men inside the ring, though only one was throwing punches. She stood quietly, watching the practice rather than looking around again. She didn't want to see the looks they were giving her. It was already making her skin crawl without having to actually see it.

It wasn't a long wait. Soon the second man was lying on the mat in a heap. Steph assumed Ramirez was the man still standing. She waited until he chugged down a bottle of water before approaching. "Benito Ramirez?"

He rubbed a towel over his shaved, bald head and looked her up and down in a way that made her skin crawl even more. "Who's asking?" he asked with a slow smile.

"Stephanie Plum," she answered, holding out her hand. He took it like he was going to shake, but instead pulled her against his chest and trapped her there.

"You a fan, Stephanie?" he asked as he backed her toward the wall.

"Um, I don't watch much boxing," she muttered. "I just wanted to ask you some questions."

He shoved her against the brick, hard enough to bounce her head off the wall with a thunk. "You a cop?"

She shook her head no. "I'm just looking for my boyfriend. I thought you might know where he's been hiding."

He smiled at her in way that made her think he wasn't completely sane. "What do you need some other dude for when you got The Champ right here, ready to take care of you?"

Eww. Now she knew The Champ had been hit in the head one too many times, especially if he thought this was the way to pick up a woman. Still, she was here, and if she just stayed on track with her questions she'd be able to get out of there in a couple minutes. And never come back. "Payback," she answered, going with the same tactic she'd used on Lula. "He stole from me."

Ramirez laughed and shook his head like she amused him. He stepped closer, rubbing his erection against her thigh. EWW! Things were certainly not going the way she thought they would. "I'm thinking you should let The Champ help you forget all about this guy. The Champ has a real special way of helping women forget."

She imagined that was true. He was probably really good at threatening or beating women into forgetting they'd been molested by The Champ. She threw her plans to the side, they were no longer important. She just knew that she had to get out of there, now. "Joe Morelli," she yelled quickly, hoping it'd put a halt to whatever he thought was going to happen between them. "Joe Morelli is my boyfriend."

He caught her under the chin and forced her face up toward his. "You're the cop's girl?" he asked as he laughed again, but this time it was downright creepy. She nodded her head yes. "Your boyfriend was running around with The Champ's girl, behind The Champ's back. He made The Champ look like a chump when he fucked her."

Oh, shit. "Carmen?" she asked in a squeaky little voice.

Ramirez pulled her forward, then slammed her back against the wall, bouncing her head off the brick again. This time she saw spots before her eyes focused on him again. "What do you know about Carmen?" he growled.

"Just that Joe was meeting her when he killed that guy," she told him. She was not about to share anything more than that. She figured if he thought she knew anything at all he'd snap her neck right here.

He smiled sadistically. "The Champ thinks he'd like to show you a good time, just like the cop showed Carmen one, before he got rid of her."

Stephanie's heart was beating so hard she could feel it pounding in her ears. She knew Joe didn't kill Carmen. He wouldn't do that. Joe would never hurt a woman, physically. Steph's money was on The Champ. He looked like he was ready to tear her in half at the moment. And he looked like he'd enjoy it. "Gee, uh, I can't stay. I have an appointment soon."

"The Champ thinks you're lying. Is The Champ not good enough for you?" he growled as he shoved a hand up her skirt. She thanked God for the uncomfortable pantyhose she was wearing. They were the only thing that stopped his upward progress long enough for her to scoot out of the way. Once she was free she turned and ran, but he caught her by the hair and threw her to the ground.

The back of her head connected with the floor. The room was a blur, her vision taking time to come back to her. She tried to push to her feet, but he suddenly covered her body with his and glared down into her eyes. "You need to learn how to properly respect The Champ," he growled.

"Get off me," she shouted back, but he only laughed and stuck his hand back up her skirt, this time tearing the pantyhose open. "Stop it!" She slapped him and pushed at his chest, but it only made him smile at her.

"Oh, yeah, baby. The Champ likes a good fight," he said, followed by another round of that maniacal laughter.

Stephanie fought as hard as she could, but she couldn't budge him. She was panicking. She didn't know what to do. All she could see was Ramirez's crazy-ass smile as he loomed over her. She turned her head, to beg for help, but found the other men leering at her as they formed a semi-circle around them. There was an excited energy pouring off them. A few had even exposed themselves in anticipation. Oh God. There was no way out even if she got away from Ramirez.

She closed her eyes and screamed, but it didn't help. Ramirez covered her mouth with one hand and tore at her panties with the other. She couldn't believe this was happening. She couldn't believe she'd been dumb enough to come here, alone, without telling anyone where she was going. God. She was going to disappear just like the others. He was going to kill her after he did this, she just knew it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by another man coming toward her, with his dick out. He grabbed her chin and pushed his erection against her face. Oh God. She wished they'd kill her before they did this. That would be better than this. Anything would be better than this. Not only was Ramirez going to rape her, but so were all these other men. "Oh, God. Please help me," she prayed while she fought to keep her mouth closed.

Ramirez's fingers were rubbing on her, hurting her. She felt the tears rolling down her cheeks, but that's all she could do. She couldn't scream or the other bastard would use her mouth. Ramirez lifted her hips to his, rubbing himself over her. "You want this, don't you, Stephanie Plum? Your pussy's so juicy," he commented as he showed her his wet fingers. "The Champ's going to fuck you like you never been fucked before."

She closed her eyes and waited to feel his intrusion, but it didn't come. It took a few moments to realize that the ringing in her ears wasn't from fear, but from gunshots shattering all the windows on the opposite side of the room. The men that had been watching hit the ground or ran for cover. Ramirez ran behind the ring, leaving Stephanie on the floor alone. She started to crawl toward the door, but decided to take her chances with a bullet. Being shot would be a better way to go than staying here with The Champ. So she ran for it.

She tripped over herself, falling down more stairs than she could count, but she made it to the main floor. She scrambled to her feet and ran for the front door. She could hear the police sirens already. She needed help. She needed to get to the police.

Before she got the door open a hand closed around her mouth and an arm wrapped around her waist. She was hauled backward off the ground, out a back door into a dark alley, then shoved into a windowless van. The man holding her shut the door and hit the roof, and they were off.

"You're safe here. I'm not going to hurt you. Can I let you go?" her kidnapper asked. She was so relieved it wasn't Ramirez's voice that she nodded her head yes. He let go of her waist, then eased his grip on her mouth. "Are you alright?" She nodded again, unable to find her voice. "Sit down."

She immediately collapsed onto the floor in front of him. He gently turned her toward himself, then leaned down and looked her over. His hand went to the back of her head, where he gently pressed the tender spot that she'd hit against the wall and the floor. He pulled his hand away, revealing blood on his fingers. "Damn it," he muttered to himself.

She watched as he pulled a tee shirt out of a bag and got a first-aid kit from under one of the seats. He got an instant icepack out and shook it before wrapping it in the tee shirt. He gently pressed it to the back of her head, then he draped a blanket around her shivering shoulders.

She still hadn't spoken to him, but sat silently watching, afraid of what was yet to come. He sat back against the opposite wall, watching her closely. "Did Ramirez hurt you anywhere else?" She shook her head no. She knew her injuries could have been far worse than they were, still she couldn't help reliving those moments she'd been under him, over and over. At some point she became aware that she was crying and she hated it, but she couldn't make it stop no matter how hard she tried.

The man made no move to comfort her, other than to hand her a stack of McDonald's napkins to wipe her face with. She reluctantly took them and tried to pull herself back together. She hated that he saw her weakness, and she had no doubts that he saw it. It was like he missed nothing, even in the darkness of the windowless van. She couldn't make out his features, but she could tell he was watching her. So she watched back.

He was completely still and absolutely quiet, she couldn't even hear his breathing. She could tell by his shadowed form that he was a big guy. He was taller than her, she knew that from when he lifted her from her feet. He was obviously strong too, he'd carried her like she weighed no more than a feather. There was an energy coming off him that spoke to his dangerous nature. He was like a silent predator, poised to strike if he desired. She had no doubt that he was the type of man that could hurt her without expending much energy, just like Ramirez. That thought made her shiver in terror all over again. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said again, obviously reading her thoughts. "I don't hurt women."

She didn't answer. What could she say? She wasn't in a spot where she could take his word on that. Her survival instincts told her to assume he was a bad guy too. Good guys didn't kidnap women. She had to find a way to get away from him before he changed his mind about hurting her.

She clutched the blanket around herself, trying to hide her tattered clothing from his penetrating stare. She stared back, trying to make him see she wasn't as weak as she must have seemed minutes ago. She wouldn't give into him easily. She'd get away and she'd report this entire thing to the police, later.

She just needed to get a good look at him so she could give the cops something to go on. The problem was, it was still too dark to get a good look at him. He seemed to be dark skinned, but she wouldn't bet on it. His hair looked dark too, but she couldn't make out his facial features at all, he was shadowed by some equipment. The only thing she could see clearly were the baggy jeans, white sneakers, and oversized tee shirt he was wearing. Black and gold, gang colors. Shit.

"Why did you grab me? The police were there," she finally asked in a rough voice.

"You can't trust the police," he answered.

That made her snort. "And I'm supposed to trust you?"

He ignored that, just like she thought he would. They both knew she wasn't dumb enough to trust a stranger. "What the hell were you doing looking for Ramirez today?"

"I needed to ask him some questions, not that it's any of your business," she said, even though she admitted the entire thing sounded pretty stupid now.

"What kinda questions?" he asked with a blatant Latino accent. She thought that was interesting considering he'd completely masked having an accent minutes ago. She didn't point that out though, she didn't need to get herself into more trouble. If this guy was in a gang, there was a good shot he had something to do with Morelli's problems. And hers. So she wasn't going to tell him anything.

"Personal ones."

He moved toward her then, letting the light expose half his face. She felt like air had been knocked from her lungs. It was Mr. Intense, now Mr. Up-close-and-personal. "You," she whispered. "I saw you on the street."

He leaned into her, letting his finger wrap around one of her loose curls. Her breath caught as she realized how close his body was to her own. She was completely consumed by the delicious scent he was wearing, as well as by those cold assessing eyes of his. Dang. "Don't get personal with Ramirez," he warned her. She started to argue, but he stopped her by putting his finger across her lips. "The guy's been brought in for rape a dozen times," he warned. "What he does to women isn't pretty." She shivered as fear gripped her again. She had almost been Ramirez's next victim. She could still feel him touching her…there. Her captor immediately noticed her reaction and moved back a few inches, so he could look into her eyes again. "Shit. Did he…"

She didn't want to talk about what happened any more than she wanted to think about what could have happened to her. "Why isn't he in jail?" she asked instead.

The man just lifted an eyebrow at her, like she was a slow child or something. "He beats the system. He buys cops and judges. Then the victims disappear before they can go to court." Just like Joe's witnesses, and Carmen, crap.

"He kills them?" she stammered, as his words confirmed what she'd known in that gym. Ramirez was a killer. "Is that what happened to Carmen? Is she dead?" she said to herself.

He leaned in again and stared into her eyes, like he was either measuring what she said or how to answer. "What d'ya know 'bout Carmen?" he asked. She narrowed her eyes and looked into his, wondering how he switched so easily between the two accents. All she saw were bottomless black pools, the color of dark chocolate. "Tell me 'bout Carmen," he demanded.

Shit. She'd done it again. Every time she mentioned Carmen's name bad things happened. Men went completely crazy. Was Carmen sleeping with them all? And how was that Steph's problem? She was probably going to be found floating in the Delaware tomorrow, just because she uttered this woman's name. "Nothing," she spat at him, suddenly angry at this stranger for all Morelli and Ramirez had done to her.

He hardened his look, glaring at her with eyes that were suddenly ice cold. "Bullshit." She glared back at him, not responding. "Why'd you go see Ramirez today?"

The way he stared her down made her squirm. It was like he could see through her denial to all her secrets, and she didn't like it all. "Why does your accent keep changing? I bet you're not even a real gangbanger. What were you really doing down on Stark Street?"

There was a flash of something in his eyes, something she couldn't identify, but it was gone just as quickly as it had been there. "I'm multilingual," he answered, this time without the accent. "Now you, why were you talking to Ramirez?"

She sighed, but answered just as evasively. "I'm looking for someone and I thought Ramirez might know something."

His glare turned from annoyance to disgust in just a few seconds. "Shit," he muttered as he slid back to the other side of the van. "You're looking for the cop?" She nodded yes. "Do yourself a favor and stay away from Stark Street. Forget you ever knew the cop and pray Ramirez forgets about you."

That was the second time she received that warning today, but this time she was ready to listen to it, she really was. Accept one thing, she still had to find Joe. She wasn't giving up everything, not yet. "I would if I could," she hissed.

"You want to be dead?" he asked like he thought she was dumb or something.

Ugh. "Not especially," she shot back.

"Then thank me for saving your ass and stay away from Stark Street."

She glared again, even though it didn't seem to affect him at all. "Listen. I appreciate you getting me out of there, but I still need to find Morelli." He crossed his arms over his chest and glared back. "He skipped out on his bail and my cousin Vinnie said I got two weeks to bring him in or he loses the bond money."

"Your cousin, Vinnie? Plum?" he asked. She nodded yes and he laughed, hard. Great. She assumed the duck story was alive and well, even on Stark Street. "So you're Vinnie's new, big, bad bounty hunter?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "No, but Vinnie's going to collect my house if he loses the money."

Then he laughed even harder. "You bailed Morelli out?" She nodded yes. "And you didn't think he'd run?" he asked, to which she only shrugged. "Oh, Sweet Cheeks, that's the funniest thing I've heard in months."

She didn't appreciate the humor. "You know where he's hiding?" she bitched back.

"If I did, I'd collect the bounty on him myself," he said still laughing.

"You a big, bad bounty hunter or something?" she hissed back at him.

"Or something," he returned with a grin that could have lit up the dark van it was so dazzling.

"So why'd you grab me?"

His smile didn't falter, not even a little bit. "I always wanted to play hero."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Right. So, why'd you say I couldn't trust the cops?"

He moved back toward her, letting his nose touch hers before he spoke again. "They're in his pocket. They would have brought you right back to Ramirez. I thought you'd like this better."

She shouldn't believe anything he said, yet he seemed to believe what he was saying. And if she were honest with herself she'd admit that she was starting to believe him too. Maybe she was just so glad to be away from Ramirez that she wanted to trust this guy or something. That'd make sense. Yet, wanting to trust him and actually doing so were totally different things, and she couldn't bring herself to do it, not yet. "And what do you get for your troubles, Mr. Hero?" she asked because one thing she learned long ago was that no good deed was done without want for payment.

"I get to know I didn't let you die," he whispered against her lips, causing tingles to race up and down her spine. She closed her eyes as his nose moved softly across her cheek and up and down her neck, until he nuzzled against her ear. "I wouldn't put a price on your life," he whispered into her ear. She couldn't control the goose bumps that spread over her body. "You shouldn't either."

That's when the van stopped, breaking the spell he had put on her.

He grasped her arms and lifted her to her knees. She froze in terror just from his hands touching her, but he leaned back, getting directly into her line of sight. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said gently. And it felt like the air had been knocked out of her again. He was simply beautiful when his features were softened like that.

His hands moved to her shoulders, then around to her back. He felt so solid and strong where he was pressed against her, but oddly enough there was nothing menacing about him in that moment. She wasn't sure how her terror subsided so quickly, but the only thing she was feeling was comfort. She wrapped her arms around his torso and rested her face against his chest. He smelled delicious. She wasn't sure what it was, but it was clean and heady and completely male. He was warm too, almost hot to the touch. And his muscles, they were so hard against her face and her hands, just like the steel she imagined was under his clothes earlier. It was weird, but she felt safe there in his arms. She felt the goodness in him, just like she felt the evil in Ramirez. It was an instinct she knew she could trust. So she pressed fully against him, stealing his heat and strength. She was safe.

He patted her back and gave her a little squeeze. "Ride's over," he told her.

She gaped at him as he pushed away from her. He hadn't been hugging her like she'd thought. He'd just been removing the blanket he'd given her, which he held in one hand, before tossing it into the corner. She was horrified that she'd been so absorbed in the moment that she'd misconstrued things so badly.

Then he reached over and slid open the door so she could see outside. He brought her to Vinnie's? He really did rescue her. She stared up at him in shock. Could he really be a good guy? Did they even exist? "Thank you."

He took her hand and helped her from the van. He pushed the tee shirt wrapped ice pack into her hand as she looked back up at him, waiting for more. A name, something. All he said was, "Later, Babe." Then the door shut and the van took off.

What just happened?


	4. Chapter 4

_****Thanks again for the great reviews and all the follows. Sorry I've been delayed in posting, holidays and all that. (Hope you all had greats ones too.) And, well, let me know what you think of Ranger so far, we'll get more of his story soon.****_

Chapter 4

Ranger slammed the door to the van and sat back down on the floor. "You sure Vinnie will get her help?" Ramon asked from the front seat. "She looked pretty messed up."

"Home," Ranger barked without response.

He didn't trust Vinnie either, but what choice did he have? It wasn't like he could haul her into the emergency room himself. He couldn't risk that. He already risked enough today, for her. He couldn't do more. Vinnie was her family, he wasn't in Alpha's pocket, and he wasn't as despicable as most people thought he was. Vinnie would do the right thing for her, probably.

Not that it mattered. She wasn't Ranger's responsibility anymore. He'd just forget the whole thing and get back to focusing on his job. The job was all that mattered right now, or at least it should be all that mattered to him.

Yet, for some reason, Ranger couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right with the woman, like maybe he should've done more for her. He shook his head, trying to shake away his misplaced feelings. He couldn't do more. He saved her, got her to Vinnie, end of story. He couldn't afford time to worry about some woman that was obviously nothing but trouble. Christ, she wasn't even smart enough to stay away from Ramirez or forget about her asshole boyfriend. Ranger had enough problems of his own right now, and she wasn't going to become one of them. Besides, she said she was fine. That alone should have absolved him of any lasting responsibility he felt toward her, unfortunately it didn't.

For some unexplainable reason he couldn't seem to forget the way she looked when he grabbed her off those stairs. She was like a frightened little girl, one that had been bullied and beaten. She'd been more than a little disheveled. Her clothing was torn, her hair was half pulled from the bun that hung crookedly from the back of her head, her eyes were wide with terror, and her wrists and legs were bruised and scraped like she'd just fought for her life. A sight had never given him such mixed emotions before. Relief that she was safe and fury that Ramirez dared to touch her raged inside him until he was boiling under the surface.

He wanted to yell at her for risking herself. He wanted to shake her for being so thoughtless. He wanted to pull her into his arms, just to assure himself that she got out of there. He wanted to keep her with him, so he knew she was safe. What the hell was wrong with him? He never got emotional, ever, but somehow she managed to do more than catch his eye when she walked down Stark Street today.

He was sure it was lust at first sight when he saw her get out of the SUV earlier. Well, her legs, with those spike heels, were the first thing he saw, but that was enough to keep him looking, and he certainly wasn't disappointed when the rest of her climbed out. She had a perfect figure, not too thin, not too thick, with all the right curves. It was a body a man could really enjoy sinking into. He liked that she was a bit taller than average too, or maybe it was her heels. Not that it mattered, they'd keep the heels on so her body lined up where he wanted it. Dang, but he had to control the urge to stay on that step and not grab her and push her up against the dirty brick of the building behind her.

Instead he stayed where he was, with his eyes glued to her, wondering what she was up to. She glanced around the neighborhood and shook off her new surroundings, then she looked straight ahead, with her head held high, and marched down the street like she was ready to take on the world. His attention was on the way she could walk in those heels, unlike a lot of women. God, the way she swung her hips was practically hypnotic, as were the rest of her movements.

To be fair, it wasn't just her physical attributes that called to him. No, it was something inside her. A strength of spirit maybe. He liked the easy confidence she displayed when ignoring the guys' cat calls. He would have almost believed it if he hadn't seen the slight straightening of her spine and the tension in her shoulders, she was nervous, but she'd never let them see it. Hell, the stiff posture made her look practically regal combined with that neat little business suit she was wearing. He's sure the façade was all anyone else saw.

Yet, what really intrigued him was the way she didn't look down at the prostitute she stopped to speak with. There was nothing false in her domineer. She treated her like they were standing around an office water cooler instead of a street corner. Lively, friendly, funny, those were the words that came to mind when he watched her interacting with the prostitute, the john, his gang…him.

Yes, he'd call that shared look an interaction. They didn't speak, but it was like they didn't have to. She met his stare and looked at him with…interest, and not the purely sexual interest he was used to from women. It was like she saw past his cover to the person beneath the mask he wore. That both fueled his interest and made him nervous as hell, enough that he was ready to bolt.

He should have been smart enough to stay away from her, he still should, but he was drawn into her tractor beam and he couldn't seem to escape it. Even now he wanted to turn around and go back for her. He couldn't forget her shaky, uncertain look when he lifted her to the sidewalk to leave. He wanted to forget, everything, but he couldn't.

That brave, spirited woman had sat in front of him broken and lost, and he felt responsible. He saw her go into that gym and he fought the urge to grab her and shake reason into her at the time, but he knew he couldn't risk it. The longer she was inside, though, the more his insides turned to ice. It was like he felt some kind of connection to her. He felt her fear like it was his own. He fought the need to go to her, because he knew he couldn't get involved. There was too much riding on this job, on his cover. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't let anything happen to her. He just couldn't.

He'd called Ramon to get the van in position and charged into the building even before all hell had broken loose. He wasn't sure what he was going to do. Thankfully someone else caused the disturbance that got her out of there before he went charging into the gym without a worry to his cover, or the cover of his team. He'd come within seconds of blowing everything he'd been working on, for her, and he had no idea why. He couldn't wrap his mind around the need to take care of her, but when he saw the broken creature she'd become at Ramirez's hands, taking care of her was exactly what he wanted to do. Still wanted to do.

He'd done what he could for her, though. There was nothing more he could give.

He got her away from Ramirez, from the police. He covered her with his blanket and tried to tend her wounds with minimal contact, though that was as much for her sake as his own. He was scared touching her would make what he was feeling more solid. He couldn't and wouldn't risk more for her. He'd been foolish to do what he'd done. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to be sorry for it. He knew he'd never be able to live with another woman's death on his hands, especially hers. Acknowledging that helped him accept what he'd risked, but he couldn't do more.

So even as she sobbed and his hands twitched to pull her into his arms and comfort her, he held himself still and just watched her. He waited for everything to make sense, including his immediate connection to her. He just wanted her to stop crying. He wanted to see the spark of sassy humor in her eyes, the same spark he'd seen only a half hour earlier when she'd joked about being a ho. He figured the easiest way to bring her back was by changing her fear to anger. Anger was safer than what he was feeling. He wasn't sure he'd be able to hold back anything if she reached out for him, so he needed her to do the opposite. Badly. Before he did something stupid.

He hated the idea of pulling attitude with her, but her tears were practically killing him. Not that he faulted her for her tears, his fingers were still covered in her blood for God's sake. Whatever happened to her would have terrified anyone. Still, he knew there was a strength in her that hadn't been broken by whatever Ramirez did to her. He needed to reach that part of her before she broke any further.

So he'd pushed her. He'd been short with her. He teased her. He let his frustration and anger at the situation hang between then, and it worked. It brought back the hell cat he'd seen earlier. As he watched her eyes fill with anger, he wondered if he'd done the wrong thing. The strength in her called to him more than her tears did. He couldn't stop himself from moving toward her, touching her. God, he wanted to do more, but he knew how incredibly bad that would be. She was just assaulted for shit's sake. Yet, Ranger wanted her like he'd never wanted anyone else.

Worse yet, he wanted to see what she was like when she wasn't terrified. He wanted to know what this woman was like beneath her beautiful surface. Not that he was going to do anything about it. He wasn't that stupid. He knew there was no room for a woman in his life, especially one that chased trouble like this one obviously did.

Still, was he wrong to still be worried about her?

He couldn't shake the weird feeling that she wasn't fine at all. Why did it bother him? Why couldn't he stop wondering what really happened to her before she got out of that gym? Why wasn't he going to leave this alone?

Before he could stop himself he was on the phone to Raphael, who was planted inside the gym as one of Ramirez's followers. "Yo," Raphael chirped in their standard greeting, the one that said they were free to talk.

"What the fuck did Ramirez do to her?" he growled back.

Ranger heard the hesitation in Raphael's shortened breathes, like he was reliving his own hell before he spoke. "She almost got herself gang raped is what happened."

Ranger understood the hesitation in Raph's voice. The guy was fully undercover. Ranger himself had been in similar positions before, just never with a monster like Ramirez. If she hadn't escaped when she had, Raph would have been one of the men watching and quite possibly having to participate in the girl's rape. Living with that horror wasn't something he'd wish on anyone, much less one of his best friends.

Anger gripped Ranger, for both his friend and the woman. He growled in a rage he hadn't felt in years. "Did anyone touch her?"

"Ramirez," Raphael hedged. "He made a show of touching her, but the bullets stopped him just in time. Five seconds later and he woulda had his dick in her too." The second growl that came from Ranger's mouth wasn't a natural sound, but he didn't give a shit at the moment. "Ibarra was working on her too, but she refused to open her mouth, even to scream. That girl's got balls of steel, that's for sure."

That was the strength Ranger saw in her. She was a fighter. He knew it. "I want him dead," Ranger whispered to no one in particular.

Raphael ignored him as he continued. "I got her handbag, stuffed it in my gym bag during the ciaos. You interested?"

"Bring it to the office," Ranger answered, thankful for Rafe's quick thinking. At least Ramirez didn't have all her personal information, yet.

"Will do. Who shot out the windows? That was fuckin' ballsy."

"That wasn't us," Ranger growled back.

"Then someone else had an eye on the girl," Ramon called from the front seat. "Whoever it was wanted her out of there too. That was no coincidence."

The answer came to him immediately. "The cop," Ranger hissed to both men. That was the only thing that made sense. "She's the cop's girlfriend."

"Shit," Ramon said. "You need us to check the adjacent properties?"

"No, he's gone," Ranger answered. "The other cops will be looking for him too. Raph, keep your ear out for anything you hear about her." He hung up the phone and stared at the blanket that had been wrapped around her earlier.

Morelli. Just the name left a sour taste in his mouth. He wondered what a woman with her strength was doing chasing after a loser like Joe Morelli. Sure she said it was for her house, but that didn't seem worth the risk she'd taken. This was about something else, something he didn't like. She loved that asshole.

Shit.

Ranger wished he'd been thinking clearly enough to have a team intercept Morelli directly after the shots were fired, but he knew Morelli was long gone now. Joe Morelli wasn't stupid, just selfish. He was being hunted by both the law and the Alpha organization, Ranger knew he wouldn't hang around waiting to be caught. Hell, he was shocked Morelli had even done what he did today. He wasn't the type of man to risk himself for someone else. Not unless that someone meant something to him. The woman obviously meant something to Morelli.

Damn it.

"Get a crew over to Vinnie's. I want a tail on her. Then have the guys remove her vehicle from Stark," he ordered Ramon, who put a call out to the closest team. Then Ranger called into the office himself.

"Yo," his second in command answered.

"Stephanie Plum," he said in a low voice. "I want a complete background check done on her and on my desk in the next ten minutes. Every fucking detail right down to what she had for breakfast this morning. Then I want you to get me the video from the Stark Street Gym. Optimize it as best you can. Ramon called in a tail on her, keep it on her twenty-four seven, Ramirez might be looking for her."

"You sure you want to get involved in this?" Tank questioned.

No. "I have a feeling we'll find Morelli if we follow the girl."

Tank was quiet for a moment before answering, "Then this isn't personal?" Ranger's fingers tightened around the phone. No. It wasn't fucking personal and Tank should know better than to even ask. Ranger didn't let things get personal, ever. "I wasn't judging, man. I know what that crazy fuck does to women and I know how you feel about it."

Ranger closed his eyes and slowly counted to ten. He didn't lose his temper and he wasn't about to start now. So what if he felt a strange connection to the woman? That didn't mean it was personal. Keeping her alive was important to his job, to the case he'd been working for the last year. That's all it was. That was probably why he had an interest in her to begin with. "I told you, I think she's the key to finding what we need. End of story."

And so what if he couldn't stop thinking about the way she felt curled up against his chest? So what if he liked feeling like he was king of the fucking world just because she felt safe in his arms? So what if he practically blew his cover to save her today? That didn't mean anything.

"Well, fuck. If she's that important I'll have it in five," Tank laughed before hanging up the phone. Clearly Tank didn't believe him, but he'd be damned if he'd give into the need to check on her. He had a team on her. That was enough. More than enough.

Ranger closed his eyes and thought about her again. There had to be a reason he was so interested in this woman, one that had less to do with her long legs and sexy curls and more to do with her being the key to this case.

And perhaps if he pretended that was true, he'd feel a lot less disgusted with himself for digging into her personal information.


	5. Chapter 5

_****Thanks again for the reviews on the last chapter. I appreciate it, very much, especially when my vision gets murky here. **_

_**I was having editing issues with this chapter. I wasn't sure what to cut, what to leave, or if I should just to take it out of the story all together and add some of this later, but this is what I settled on. Not the most exciting, and maybe it could have maybe been added to the last chapter, but hide sight and all that. SO, anyway, things will definitely pick back up with the next chapter. Thanks for hanging in there with me.****_

Chapter 5

Stephanie watched the van disappear down the street before she stumbled into the bonds office in a daze. Connie looked up from her computer screen and gasped. "Holy shit. Stephanie. What happened to you? Are you alright?" She got up and guided Steph to the couch.

"I'm fine," Steph assured her. "I went down to Stark Street."

Connie threw her hands in the air and muttered something under her breath, then she walked over and pounded on Vinnie's door. A minute later he threw the door open. "What?" he shouted at Connie.

"Look what you did," she said pointing at Steph. "She was assaulted down on Stark, because you sent her looking for Morelli."

Vinnie looked kind of sick. "Shit. Steph, I didn't think you'd actually go after him."

Steph waved her hand at him. He had to stop. "You're still taking my house, right?" He just shrugged at her. "Then what choice did I have?"

Vinnie ignored that as he ran his fingers through his over-gelled hair. "Who did this to you? Was it one of those gangbangers? Cause if it was, I know a guy," he told her fiercely.

Steph was sure Vinnie knew a lot of guys. He had a secret obsession with small dark men, a secret from his wife anyway. Steph didn't want to think much about how or why he knew someone that could take care of gangbangers though. That was just too much information for one day. She was already overloaded. "No, it was Benito Ramirez."

"Holy crap," Connie muttered and crossed herself. "He's a sick bastard."

"Why'd everyone but me know this?" Steph growled at them both.

"Well, crap, he tried to post bail with us a few times…when he was brought in for assault," Connie said shaking her head. "We didn't bail him out, because I got a look at the arrest reports. They were sick."

"Great," she sighed in disgust.

"I had no idea you were going to see Ramirez," Connie promised. "I never woulda let you do that."

Stephanie shrugged and put the ice pack back onto her head. "How'd you get away from Ramirez?" Vinnie finally asked. Then he looked at her more closely, like he was trying to see inside her. "You did get away, right? He didn't, you know?"

"Rape me? No. Thankfully some guy showed up and gave me a ride here." They both stared at her like they were waiting for more. "What? He drove me here and left. End of story."

"You get a name?" Vinnie asked as he sat down next to her.

She shook her head no. "Just some guy." Though that was arguable. That man was still imprinted in her brain, perhaps he always would be. He was a strange mix of street thug and knight in shining armor, a mix she found very intriguing. Yeah, so he was a jerk, but he had saved her life, which was probably why she couldn't stop thinking of him as some sort of hero.

She rolled her eyes at herself, she couldn't believe she was crushing on some conceited stranger after everything that happened today. She should know better, but still, now that she was calming down a little she couldn't stop thinking that the guy was Hot, capital H intended. That seemed to trump jerk for some reason, at least in her fantasies. She was hoping that in real life she'd remember that letting hot trump jerk was got her into this mess to start with.

Not that _he_ was a complete jerk. He had rescued her, even if getting her away from the police was misguided. He didn't seem to judge her for her crying attack either. Plus, he covered her up and checked her injury. He even gave her ice; that was the best gift she'd gotten from a man in years. Ugh. How pathetic was that? So where did the jerk behavior fit into the rest of his actions?

It didn't. Not really. He got angry, that's when his behavior changed. That's when he seemed to get upset with her. And it happened when she mentioned Carmen…and Morelli.

Alarm bells chimed in her mind. She was onto something. This guy was connected to Carmen and Morelli somehow. If not, he wouldn't have had that kind of reaction. So how did he fit into the mix? She didn't think he was working for Ramirez. His hatred seemed too real. So what then?

"So, this guy, he saved you?" Connie asked, interrupting her thoughts, as she lifted the ice pack from Steph's head and peek at her bump. Steph nodded and shrugged at the same time. "That's kinda sexy."

Stephanie tried to roll her eyes, but the pain behind them stopped the movement, so instead she just sighed and waved her hand. "It wasn't sexy. I look like crap, my head's bleeding, my pantyhose are shredded, Ramirez tore off my panties, and I lost my shoes," she complained. "They were good shoes."

All those things were true and acknowledging it made her feel worse than she had moments before. Yet what was really bothering her at the moment was the knowledge that her rescuer saw her at her absolute worst moment. Sure, he didn't say anything about her appearance, and she was thankful that he didn't, but part of her was also upset that he didn't look at her, like men do, at all. Ugh. She must have bumped her head harder than she thought she had. She was never so vane before. And at a time like this, what was she thinking?

Steph touched the bloody bump with her fingertips before putting the ice back on it. Crap. "Holy crap, that's a nasty bump," Connie echoed her thoughts, then she touched Steph's wrist. "And the bruises don't look good either. Maybe we should take you to the ER."

Stephanie jumped up and got dizzy, almost immediately, though she fought the urge to drop back onto the couch. "No, no. I'm fine. I just need to clean up a little. It looks worse than it is. Can you drive me home? I left Morelli's truck on Stark Street."

"Shit, his car is long gone," Vinnie told her with a pat to her back. Of course it was. It was probably stripped and sold by now. Besides, she didn't really want to go back there to get it anyway. Not now. Not today. "You sure you're alright? You seem a little off."

"I'm fine," she grumbled. "I'm just shook up, that's all."

"You want me to call your mom?" Vinnie asked hopefully.

"No," Steph practically shrieked, that's all she needed right now. "I said I'm fine. If you don't want to drive me, can you just call a cab? I need to get out of here."

"I was just trying to help," Vinnie complained.

"I don't need your help," she hissed back before shutting her eyes in pain.

"I'll drive you home," Connie told her gently, with a pat to her back. "We'll get you some lunch too. You need to eat something after an ordeal like this."

Steph nodded to her. That seemed logical.

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After she used her hidden spare key to let herself into the house she waved to Connie and locked the door. Not that it mattered. She'd lost her keys, along with her handbag, in the freaking gym of all places. When she thought about her time in the gym she couldn't even remember at what point she dropped it. All she knew was that she didn't have it anymore. Not that she carried all her cash in there or anything, but she lost her bank card and ID, and phone, and keys. What a pain in the butt those would be to replace.

She sighed and climbed the stairs to her bedroom, ready to call this day over, even if it was only going on three in the afternoon. She dropped the bag of McDonald's food on her nightstand and went to the bathroom. She glanced into the mirror and grimaced at her reflection. She looked like hell. No wonder Connie had badgered her to go to the hospital or her parent's house. Maybe she should have gone too, but she just couldn't. Not yet. She needed a shower in the worst way possible. She stripped down and rolled up her clothes, then tossed them against the wall. They were ready to be burned.

Then she got into the shower. A blazing hot shower. She stood there, letting the water burn her skin until it was a dark pink color, and then she started to scrub with her loofa and what was left of her shower gel. She knew she was trying to wash away Benito Ramirez's touch. Of course, it didn't work, not that she thought it would, but she couldn't help trying. After ten minutes she knew it was a lost cause. She could still feel his warm, sweaty skin against her. She could feel his jabbing, pinching touch between her legs. She closed her eyes and let her tears mix with the water, she'd never erase what he did to her.

Eventually the water ran cold, so she gave up trying to wash the day away and turned off the faucet. She moved in front of the mirror and stared at the reflection staring back at her. She barely recognized the woman. She looked like something that stepped out of a domestic abuse ad. She trembled at the thought. She hadn't even been hit, or punched, or kicked like some of the women she'd seen hiding behind sunglasses and scarves. She supposed she was lucky. She was able to flee from her abuser before things escalated on all levels.

She wrapped herself in an old terry bathrobe, then walked into her bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed and ate her cold burger and fries, courtesy of Connie. Unfortunately, it didn't take long for her to realize that she shouldn't have bothered. She ran to the bathroom and purged the food, almost immediately.

She swished some mouthwash to get rid of the taste before going back to her bedroom for some sweats and an old Snoopy tee shirt. She was cold, really cold. She couldn't stop trembling. She stumbled to her bed and pulled the blankets up to her neck. At some point she allowed her eyelids to close, but her mind was still filled with the horrors of the day.

She tried to relax, breathe, and think of good things. Suddenly she found her mind filled with images of heroes, riding to the rescue in beat up white vans. Her white knight, though black knight almost seemed to fit him better. She draped her arm across her eyes, trying to dull the throbbing in her head. She wanted to see him again, just once, that was her last thought before drifting off to sleep.

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Ranger wasn't any happier with his decision to investigate the women when he got back to his building than he had been in the van. He ignored the guys' greetings and went to his office, where it was cool, dark, and quiet. Normally that was exactly what he needed to decompress a little, but the solitude wasn't doing it today. He was completely on edge about what he'd see in that report.

He didn't want to read it any more than he knew he had to read it. He considered himself a good judge of character and his first instinct was to believe she was clean, but he couldn't rely on his gut for this one. He needed to know for sure if she was innocent or if he'd fallen into a really well laid plan. He was really hoping the file showed she was free of the shit Morelli was involved in. Yet, if she was clean, that would pose an even larger problem, for them both.

If she was working with Morelli he could use her, persuade her to give up the information she had, and he wouldn't feel a bit of remorse for doing it. If she were clean, then what? She unknowingly put herself on Ramirez's radar and had no idea how much trouble she was in, and Ranger wasn't likely to let her go it alone. Especially if he could still use her to find Morelli. Damn it. He didn't like either option.

Tank interrupted his thoughts when he walked through the door and dropped the file on Ranger's desk. He frowned at it, but didn't open it. Instead he looked up at his best friend, who was now seating himself in the chair facing Ranger's desk.

"Take a seat," he grumbled unhappily.

Tank patted the arms of the chair and grinned at his sarcasm. "Two Boston Crème donuts and a large coffee from Dunkin Donuts," Tank told him with an even brighter grin. Ranger lifted his eyebrow at his best friend. What the hell was he talking about now? "The girl's breakfast, if you could call it that."

"Fuck," Ranger sighed, he asked for that, not that he really meant it.

"No need for language," Tank smirked at him. "I only do what I'm ordered to do. Interesting read, by the way." He nodded at the file that Ranger still hadn't opened.

What could Ranger say? He still felt like an ass for doing this, but he had to assure himself that she had something to do with the case. That would vindicate his interest in her, or so he convinced himself before opening the folder.

Two months of bank draft information, with Dunkin Donuts being the last purchase on the top page. He scanned it, but nothing but fast food and convenience store purchases stood out. It was shocking she could eat like that and still look as good as she did. Shit. He needed to keep his mind on the job, not her ass.

Stephanie Michelle Plum, the next page read. From her birth at St. Francis Hospital in Chambersburg to her college graduation it appeared she had a perfectly normal childhood. That gave way to a series of bad luck as an adult, a divorce, a job layoff, and signing her house away to Vincent Plum. The woman's life was going down the toilet, just like she alluded to.

"What's so interesting about this, it looks standard," he asked Tank with a frown.

Tank pulled the report out of his hand and pointed to the next page. "Her registered vehicle is a Mazda Miata, a red convertible. Ran the plates on the SUV just to be sure, it's registered to Joseph Anthony Morelli." Shit.

"That confirms it was Morelli who stole that shipment then," he muttered, remembering her vehicle fleeing the scene. If she knew what Morelli was up to she surely wouldn't have given him her vehicle, would she? He doubted she even knew her vehicle had been tied to a crime scene. Christ. What else had Morelli gotten her involved in? "Why let his girlfriend put herself in danger driving his vehicle?"

"Maybe that's a question for the girl?" Tank suggested.

Maybe it was…or maybe it wasn't. Morelli risked his neck for her today. Ranger doubted putting her at risk was part of Morelli's plan. So if Morelli was watching her today he knew she was driving his truck on Stark, where it was recognizable as his. If endangering her wasn't the plan, then Morelli wouldn't like that. So why not put her back in the vehicle, to draw Morelli out of the woodwork again? "I want tracking placed on his SUV."

"You sure about this?" Tank cautioned.

Of course he wasn't, but he'd have a team on her. She was safe enough. "Do it."

"Fine." Tank gave him a disgruntled look as he stood, but he didn't argue. He knew not to. "Rafe is back from the gym too."

"Send him in with her bag," he said dismissing his friend.

Raphael walked in as Tank walked out, clearly waiting his turn to see the boss. He dropped the black leather bag on the desk and plopped down in the chair Tank had just deserted. What was it with the guys inviting themselves to sit down? Did he look like he wanted company?

"She really alright?" Rafe asked, but Ranger didn't answer. He wanted to know that answer himself, but refused to think about it.

Ranger opened her bag and dumped the contents onto his desk. Jesus. How the hell could she carry that much shit around with her? Lifesavers, Tic Tacs, Tastykakes, and a Snickers bar, good God. He put the food back into the bag, followed by numerous pens, hairbands, lipstick, lip gloss, Chapstick, tampons, and three tubes of mascara. Her keys, cell phone, and wallet remained, along with dozens of receipts and notes. Only two of the notes were of any interest to him, one contained a phone number, the other an address.

The keys held two sets of house keys, probably hers and Morelli's, plus those for the SUV. Nothing he could use there, he'd already been through Morelli's apartment. The cellphone was locked, so he'd have one of the guys get into it before returning it to her.

"The look on Ramirez's face when he realized she was gone was pure evil, man. He's going to go after her as soon as he has a chance."

"I figured," he finally answered.

"Good. Alpha has a leash on him now, but he'll relent like usual," Rafe answered with a nod before standing.

Warning received.

Ranger stood and followed him out of the office. He dropped her phone on Silvio's desk. "I want all the data on it copied to me and a tap placed on it as soon as possible." He didn't wait for a reply, but headed up to his apartment to change his clothes. He hated this baggy shit, cumbersome to fight in.

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Steph didn't sleep well at all, it was rather fitful. Even if her hero filled her alert mind, Ramirez still filled her dreams. She kept waking, afraid the dreams were real. Afraid he'd be standing next to her bed. Yet, for some reason, she couldn't seem to stay awake. Then the next thing she knew she was awake again, filled with terror and panic, which sent her heart racing and her breathing into erratic pants. Her head hurt too. And her stomach was upset.

At one point, probably after the worst of the dreams, she fell from her bed and grabbed the little trashcan that stood beside her nightstand. She vomited the rest of the food into it, then closed her eyes as she drifted back to sleep there on the floor.

The next time she woke she was in her bed, with the covers tucked around her. She tried to sit up, but moaned in pain as her eyes failed to focus on anything in the dark room. What time was it? How'd she get back in the bed?

A cold washcloth pressed to her forehead, wiping her face of perspiration. "I think you may have a concussion," someone told her in a soft, comforting voice. "Take these." Pills were pressed into her hand, then her body was lifted upright before she was handed a glass of cool water. She put them in her mouth and swallowed a few sips of the water. "Can you drink anymore?" he asked.

She shook her head no.

"I'm afraid you'll dehydrate. You've been sick and you're sweating in your sleep," he told her. "Try another drink."

She suffered another sip of the water before looking up at his shadowed face. Was he an angel? "Who're you?" she whispered.

"I'm your friend," he said softly as he petted her hair.

He was her friend. That's why he was taking care of her. "Okay," she agreed.

"Okay," he murmured. "Now lay down and sleep. I'll stay here to make sure no one hurts you."

"Ramirez," she whispered, as the thought came back to her.

"You're safe with me. I won't let him touch you again," he said softly. "I promise."

"You're my hero, right?" she asked him, because it had to be him. She felt safe with him. She didn't feel safe with anyone else. She felt an icepack press to the back of her head as her eyes closed again.

"Sleep, Babe," he whispered, and she swore she felt his lips touch her forehead.

She woke three or four more times during the night. Each time she saw his silhouette sitting in a chair by her bed. She wasn't sure why his presence soothed her, but she figured it had something to do with her head injury. Normally a strange man in her bedroom would terrify her, but not him. He was here to protect her. He promised.

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Stephanie woke to bright sunlight pouring through her windows. She struggled to sit up, then looked around her room. Why was she looking for someone? Had someone been there? It could have been part of her dreams, yet, it seemed so real.

Her eyes settled on the chair that was in the corner of her room. It sat empty, but she remembered a broad shouldered shadow filling it. She could remember his soft voice and his promises too. She shivered. How could she have imagined all of that? She had no idea, but she'd been pretty messed up the night before, heck, her head was still throbbing. All she knew was that she was very much alone now. At least she thought she was. She supposed she should probably make sure the house really was empty.

She struggled to her feet, made a quick stop in the bathroom, and then moved from room to room. She checked all the closets and under all the beds. She was alone, without a doubt. Yet there were traces of things that led her to believe she hadn't imagined anything. There was the cold ice pack in her bed, the pain killer on her night table, the wastebasket had been cleaned, as had her bathroom, and oddly enough, her handbag was on her kitchen counter.

She emptied it onto the counter to see what was missing, but it seemed like everything was there. Even her keys were there, which she swore she didn't have when she got home yesterday. Then again, the trip home was kind of hazy.

She rubbed the bruise on her head and wondered if she should go to the doctor after all. Maybe she had brain damage. That'd make a lot more sense than some stranger letting himself into her house to return her bag, take care of her, clean her house, then leave as if he had never been there. Even thinking that made her sound crazy.

She checked the locks on her doors and went back upstairs to shower. She made it short and sweet this time, no sense lingering. She was too tired to stay upright anyway. She finger combed her curls and rubbed some styling oil through the ends so it wouldn't look like it had this morning-scary. Then she pulled on some fresh pajamas and crawled back into her bed.

She flipped on the TV and closed her eyes. She liked the TV, it drown out the quiet. It didn't manage to drown out her thoughts though. She opened her eyes and looked at the empty chair in the corner. She couldn't remember the man, but she remembered his words. He promised to protect her from Ramirez, and, surprisingly, she still believed he would.

"Thank you," she whispered before closing her eyes again.


	6. Chapter 6

_****Thank you again for reviewing the last chapter for me. I really appreciate it. **_

_**I meant to have this chapter up sooner, but it turned into two chapters instead. So this is Steph's POV and Ranger's will follow in the next chapter, which I'm just about done with so hopefully I'll have it up in the next day or two here depending on real life. **_

_**Again, let me know what you think. I appreciate the feedback.****_

Chapter 6

It'd been four days since her run in with Ramirez and Stephanie thought it was time she quit hiding. She'd spent the entire weekend locked in her house, only opening the door for the pizza delivery guy. There'd been no sign of Ramirez, or her nocturnal visitor. While the first was definitely a good thing, the second had been bothering her a little more each day.

The more she thought about _him,_ the more she knew she had to find him again. Not just because he was haunting her dreams, and fantasies, but because the more she replayed the conversation they'd had in that van, the more she knew he had something to do with Morelli.

She knew she should just let it all go and give Vinnie the house, but she couldn't. Not yet. Honestly, she wasn't even sure if keeping the house was what was driving her anymore. It was more that she had to put the pieces of the puzzle together or she'd drive herself absolutely crazy. Plus, there was a small place in the back of her mind that knew she'd never find out who he was or why he helped her if she walked away now.

She had spent all weekend thinking herself in circles about going to find the man. She knew it'd be safer to stay away from Stark Street and hope that she'd be forgotten like he suggested, but she couldn't help but think it'd be smarter to find him and figure out exactly what she'd walked herself into in the first place. Then she could protect herself. Still, it wasn't a good idea to go hunt a potentially dangerous man, but how dangerous could he be if he'd taken care of her, twice? He could possibly get her involved in gang issues, she didn't need that, but he didn't seem like a thug to her. He protected her, damn it, but why? She had to find him. She couldn't dissuade herself, no matter how hard she tried. There were just too many unanswered questions.

So she took one last look in the mirror, fluffing her curls about her shoulders, and smiled. She had applied liner and mascara, a little blush, and some gloss to her lips. With her hair down and the extra make-up applied she didn't think she looked much like the same woman who'd walked into the gym last week. She doubted anyone would equate that business suit wearing woman with the one staring back at her. In a bright red halter and a denim mini skirt she hadn't worn since college, she knew she'd fit into the Stark crowd without much notice.

She slipped into some red FMP's and grabbed her handbag before heading out to the garage. She climbed into Joe's SUV, which she'd found on the second day of her self-incarceration. She'd taken the garbage out and there was the truck, returned just like her handbag. She couldn't quite believe it, but figured it was another good reason to find the man responsible for its return. He really did have a lot of explaining to do.

She drove down Stark, glancing at the guys hanging around the corners or on the stairs to some of the apartment buildings. She didn't see her man, but she did recognize the woman she met, Lula. She pulled to the side of the road and hit the button on the passenger window.

"You lookin' for date? Shit, it's you again…" Lula said glaring into the window. "What're you doin' here, white girl?"

"How about lunch?" Steph asked. "I'm buying." She figured getting Lula into the vehicle and getting the heck off Stark Street before her luck ran out was the best idea.

Lula gave her a hard look. "Fine, but I don't do shit with girls."

"I just wanted to ask you a few questions, that's all," Steph assured her.

Lula climbed in. "I ain't seen officer hottie, if that's what you're wanting to know."

"I figure," Steph answered with a shrug.

"Hunh, this 'bout Ramirez then? He was pissed off when he couldn't find you. How'd you get out of there?" Lula grumbled.

"Dumb luck I guess. I went out the back and hid," Steph lied as she turned down a side street to take them back toward downtown.

"Hunh." Lula didn't seem convinced. "So what's the question then?"

"You know those guys, the ones that were hanging out across the street last time I spoke with you? The one said he'd bought you a bucket of chicken for a…?"

"I knew who you're talkin' 'bout without you havin' ta bring up that shit," she grumbled again. "What you want with Manny?"

"Manny? He's the chicken guy?" Steph asked with a smile. Lula glared back at her, but nodded yes. "Where does Manny hang out?"

"Now I know you crazy," she complained. "Those're the Latin Kings he hangs with. That ain't no place for a skinny ass white girl."

"Just humor me then. If I wanted to see the Latin Kings about, say, a job I wanted to hire them for, where would I find them?" Stephanie questioned.

"Mel's Pub," she muttered. "Take a left, it's off Stark, down on Harrison Street."

"They serve lunch?"

"You're still buyin'?" Lula asked like she didn't believe it.

Stephanie was certainly buying. There was no way she was going in alone. "Yep."

"Fine, they got some good sandwiches."

Stephanie smiled. She didn't doubt she could get Lula to help her some more, for the cost of food. Lula gave her directions, so she parked the SUV at the curb and looked at the restaurant. It didn't look half bad, at least in comparison to the other places in the neighborhood.

The door and the windows were visible behind steel bars, Steph assumed the bars were used to stop thieves. There was some spray paint on the bricks, probably proclaiming the place a gang hangout. Plus a big red neon sign that said MEL'S in bold letters. She immediately remembered this was the bar that Carmen Sanchez had worked at. Something to link Carmen to her mystery man maybe?

They got out of the SUV and walked toward the front door. "Are you lookin' for a date or something?" Lula asked her. "You look like you fell outta Bon Jovi video."

"I wanted to fit in better," Stephanie told her as she tugged the mini skirt down to cover her cheeks.

Lula looked her up and down, then landed on her feet. "Those ain't knock off Jimmy Choo's are they?"

Stephanie's eyes widened. She wouldn't have figured a street walker could pick out labels, especially ones that were two years out of season. "I used to have a good job," she told the other woman in explanation.

"Used to?"

"I got laid off," she offered.

Lula smiled. "You could get laid on in that skirt. Look at those idiots, lookin' at you," she complained as she held the door open for Steph.

Stephanie smiled at the group of men near the door, unfortunately her man wasn't there. "I'm not looking to get laid on either," she said quietly.

Lula laughed. "So how're you making money then?"

"Alimony, I divorced a lawyer," she replied just as quietly.

Lula grinned at her. "Now, that there, is what I call high class hoeing."

Stephanie couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of her mouth. If only her marriage and divorce had been planned to get his money. That would have left her feeling a lot better about herself. She decided she didn't mind Lula thinking so. It gave them something in common.

"Ladies," one of the men hooted as they walked past, but Lula slapped him to shut him up.

Stephanie chuckled as she looked around the bar. It was clean enough, though dimly lit. The black lacquer bar had seen better days, but the chrome stools looked newish. The bar filled the far wall, the open space between the bar and the booths was filled with small tables and chairs. And near the back of the building were some pool tables, dart boards, and a little hall to the rest rooms. It wasn't scary at all.

They took seats at a table closer to the back of the bar, but not close enough to get near the guys filling the gaming area. A cute little Latina girl took their orders and dropped off their Cokes, leaving them alone.

"Shit," Lula mumbled. "Just ignore him."

Stephanie looked up in time to see Lula's friend Manny walking up to their table. "Ladies, you're lookin' fine today."

"My friend's buying me lunch, so there's no need for you to be talkin' to me," Lula grumbled at him.

"Awe, baby, don't be that way," he said with a wink. "What 'bout you, sweetheart, you lookin' to spend some time in heaven?"

"Heaven, my ass," Lula snorted.

Stephanie rolled her eyes at him. "No, we're just looking to eat our sandwiches."

"Fine, but if you change your mind, me and my boys are right over there," he said pointing at the pool table, before strutting off.

Stephanie couldn't stop herself from looking over at the group. There were five guys in gang colors standing around the tables with beers in their hands. She started to turn away, but then she noticed a sixth man leaning back in a chair, taking a sip from a water bottle. It was him.

Their eyes met, and if he recognized her it didn't show. He just stared at her with that blank hard look, the same one he'd used on the street that first day. She couldn't stop staring back. "Shit, white girl. I see where you're lookin' and you need to stop, now," Lula told her.

Stephanie felt her cheeks turn pink as she quickly looked back at Lula. "What? Why?"

"Because that man is the coldest mother fucker you ever met," she complained. "Hot, yes, but cold, if you know what I mean."

Stephanie had no idea what she meant. He seemed anything but cold to her. "Who is he?"

"Ranger," she answered with a frown. Ranger. What kind of name was that? "He was brought in from Newark to clean up after Martinez."

"Martinez?"

Lula shook her head in frustration. "The Trenton enforcer, Martinez. He got himself killed last year. The gang was goin' to shit, lots of arrests. Petty crimes and shit too. Vice was up their asses, makin' problems for everybody on Stark. The other gangs, the pimps and dealers, and some other assholes were plannin' a war on the Kings for bringing the cops down there. Word is that's why Ranger was sent here, to fix shit."

Holy crap. "He's an enforcer? What's that mean?"

"You really are on the wrong side of town, ain't you?" Lula complained. "It means just that, he enforces the gang laws." Holy crap. "And he's good at it too. When he took over as enforcer he delivered his guys to jail himself. Got everything cleaned up and smoothed things over with their enemies. Nobody in that gang does nothin' without a direct order from their leader no more. If they do, Ranger takes care of them. Ain't no body want to face Ranger," she told Stephanie.

Stephanie looked back at Ranger. Holy crap. He was still staring at her. She knew he was strong and she sensed that he was tough, but a gang enforcer? That hardly made sense. He seemed like so much more than hired muscle. She looked back at Lula. "Morelli was one of the cops making problems down here, wasn't he?"

"No shit, he got all us girls picked up a couple times," Lula grumbled. "I hate going to the station. Asshole pigs make me sick."

"Did Morelli have a problem with Ranger?"

Lula laughed. "What do you think? Officer Hottie's arrest record musta been a quarter of his usual take after Ranger got here." Stephanie smiled at Lula. This was the information she'd been looking for. "But if he was trying to get something on Ranger I doubt he could. The man keeps his hands clean."

Stephanie almost fell out of her chair. That hadn't occurred to her straight off, but maybe Morelli had stumbled across something on Ranger. Maybe Ranger really did have something to do with all of this. Holy crap. "Really? How's he stay clean?" she asked innocently.

"He ain't dumb. Nobody's gonna find evidence he did somethin' wrong. Ranger ain't out there breakin' laws, least not in public. He ain't orderin' his guys to do their jobs either, 'cause he ain't the one in charge. He just keeps them in line."

"Oh," Steph sighed. She wasn't sure what she'd hear about him today, but this wasn't it. She didn't want to believe he was a criminal. It didn't seem right. She also didn't want him to be the bad guy in all of this, but right now it seemed entirely possible. More than that, it seemed likely. And it sucked.

"Oh?" Lula asked. Steph just shrugged and took a deep drink of her soda. "Well, shit, don't go gettin' all like that," Lula said with a deep sigh of her own. "Who knows, maybe he's not that bad a guy. I don't think he samples none of the product, like most the guys do. And I know he don't sample none of the girls either. He just keeps to himself is all."

Stephanie was just trying to wrap her mind around everything Lula was saying, but, frankly, she didn't know what way was up at the moment. Things made even less sense to her now than when she got here, if that was possible. "The gang, they deal drugs? And girls?"

"Drugs, weapons, shit like that," Lula agreed. "They ain't pimpin' girls if that's what you're thinking, but the gang shares their women, if you know what I mean." Stephanie's mouth dropped open as that little tidbit sunk in. "Calm down. Word is Ranger never touches any of them, or any of us for that matter. People talk about him bein'…different." She wasn't sure if she understood Lula's implication correctly or not, but if she did, she'd have to disagree. There was no way he was gay…no way.

Stephanie chanced a look back at him. He was still staring at her, and he didn't look happy. Crap. "Maybe he's in a relationship or something."

Lula shrugged her shoulders. "We both know that don't stop most men." Stephanie nodded in agreement. She knew that first hand. "You interested in Ranger?"

"Nope," Steph lied again. "He's just really hot."

"No shit," Lula agreed. "The man gives me hot flashes he's so fine."

"Dangerous though," Steph sighed.

"But sometimes those are the best lays," Lula answered with her own sigh, making them both dissolve into laughter just as the waitress returned with their burgers and fries. "Thanks for lunch."

"Thanks for coming with me," Steph smiled. "This is kind of nice."

"That's cause we're the only women in here, other than the waitress," Lula laughed.

Stephanie laughed too. "Maybe this is the job to have."

Lula shook her head. "Not here it ain't. Most these guys aren't as nice as Manny and his friends. The rest're prolly on good behavior 'cause Ranger's over there. They can get a little territorial 'bout girls, you know?" Like Carmen? Had the gang disagreed with her involvement with Ramirez? Or Morelli?

"Bummer," she answered, letting it go for now. There was no way to poke that subject without raising a flag.

"What did you do, before you were laid off?"

"I was a lingerie buyer," Stephanie said with a smile. "I was the queen of nylon granny panties."

Lula's deep belly laugh drew the attention of all the men in the room. "Fuckin' A, you're alright, white girl."

"You're alright too, Lula."

Lula lifted her Coke. "To new friendships."

Stephanie lifted her Coke and knocked the plastic cups together. "Maybe we shoulda got something stronger."

"Next time, we'll get the guys to buy," Lula told her loudly enough to be heard by the guys at the pool tables.

"Not if I have to blow Manny for it," Stephanie answered just as loudly.

"I heard that," Manny called back to her. "And don't knock it until you try it, sweetheart."

Stephanie rolled her eyes at that. "I'm going to use the ladies room."

Lula smiled back. "Work that ass, give him a show," she suggested with a wink.

There was no point asking whom she was referring to, not that Steph was looking to entice Ranger, but if he got a look at her when she wasn't looking like something the cat dragged in…well, that held a certain appeal.

She slipped off her chair and flipped her curls over her shoulder as she started to swing her hips toward the back of the bar. Of course she noticed the men's eyes on her. She was wearing a fairly indecent mini skirt. When she got even with Ranger's table she glanced at him and once again felt like the air was sucked from her lungs.

His eyes captured hers, but his stony expression never changed. Nor did he speak or even move a muscle to express any interest in her, yet she knew he was interested. She could feel it. She sent him an invitation with her eyes before moving on. She rounded the corner and stopped outside the door to the ladies room.

She waited in the hall, wondering if he'd take the hint. Two minutes later he stepped around the corner. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say a word he grabbed her by the arm and shoved her into the ladies room. It was a small room, painted white, with only a toilet, sink, and mirror inside. She heard the door lock behind her and turned to see him standing inside the room.

"Hi," she started.

He frowned in return. "What're you doing here?"

"I was looking for you." He lifted an eyebrow at her. "I, well, were you in my house the other night?"

He still didn't move. He just stood there, blocking the door. "I returned your bag, and your car," he finally admitted. "Better than Ramirez returning them."

She couldn't agree more. "You, um, did some other stuff too, that night," she gritted out. He still just stood there staring. "Thank you for, um, helping me. I didn't realize I was so…sick." Oh boy. She knew her cheeks were bright red and she couldn't control her stammer. She felt and sounded like an idiot. Not to mention she was referring to him being in her bedroom, with her…and her vomit bucket. Oh God.

He took a step toward her, making her retreat. Then another and another, until her back hit the wall. He leaned over her. "I warned you to stay away from Stark Street."

"You warned me to stay away from Ramirez. I'm done with Ramirez."

"So you've moved onto me, because I'm safer?" he asked with that menacing glare and cold, deep voice.

Was he trying to frighten her? Ha. There was no way she was going to let him bully her. She wasn't dumb enough to believe he'd hurt her after all he did to help her. So she stood up, leaned into him, and any sort of nervousness she'd felt before was completely gone and replaced with anger. "Of course you're safer."

He lifted that annoyingly, handsome eyebrow again drawing her eyes to his handsome face. Smooth, mocha colored skin, perfectly proportioned nose, cheek bones models would kill for, a strong, masculine jaw, and perfect, plush lips…the kind that were made for pleasure. How was she supposed to stay angry at that face? She just wanted to lean into it and try those lips out herself. His eyes turned soft, dark, and liquid and she felt like she was drowning in them. Oh, boy. He knew what she was thinking. He licked his lips and tilted his head, changing their eye contact. "You're anything but safe with me right now," he warned in a low voice.

She moved back, straightening herself against the wall. She looked away, trying to get the look in his eyes out of her mind. "Maybe your act works on other people, but I'm not buying it," she answered, but her voice sounded more like a purr than an argument.

He caught her chin and turned her face back to his. His gazed had turned frosty again. "My act?"

She smiled back at him, because she knew she was getting to him. He didn't like that she saw through his exterior, but it was nothing but that, a façade. He could do or say whatever he wanted, but she knew she was safe. "It's all an act, isn't it? Your job must depend on you being a hard-ass jerk, and maybe you really are a jerk that seems possible, but you're really a good guy, aren't you?"

He didn't even blink at her words, just kept staring into her eyes. "You're delusional if you believe that."

She continued to smile at him, meeting that deadly stare with one of her own. "I'm not the one that's delusional. I don't know who you really are or what you're doing with a street gang, but I know you're more than you pretend to be and you better believe I'm going to put all the pieces together."

He clasped her shoulders and hauled her against his chest. His hard, muscular chest. Dang. She was sure he could feel her nipples harden through the thin top she wore. He gently pushed her back against the wall, wedging a knee between her thighs. Her eyes fastened onto his and they were anything but cold at the moment. They were devouring her. A soft gasp escaped her lips as awareness shot through her body and settled between her legs in a dull throb.

He was watching her with those black eyes, knowing exactly what he was doing to her. He moved closer, until his nose was touching hers. His breath was warm and minty against her lips. And she was completely melting into him, wanting nothing more than to rub against that hard thigh that was pressing into her center.

"You want to know my secrets?" he growled at her.

She nodded at the same time she whispered, "Yes."

He moved his leg, grinding up against her. "Are you willing to fuck me to find out?" he whispered to her. Her heartbeat increased until she was sure her pulse was visible in her neck. As if he could read her mind, his finger touched that tender spot with utter gentleness before his hand wrapped around her neck. "Or I could break your sweet little neck right now," he threatened in a husky voice. "That would stop you from putting that pretty nose where it doesn't belong."

She stilled at his threat, but she still wasn't worried. "But you don't want to hurt me." No, she could tell by the look on his face that he'd much prefer the first option. In fact, he seemed close to just taking her right here.

His fingers stroked her neck lightly, almost like a caress. "It'd be easier to get it over with now, rather than have to get rid of you later."

He was fighting this harder than she thought he would, but she'd win in the end. She'd find out what he was hiding. She moved her hands between them and fisted his shirt, pulling him fully against her. "I'm not scared of you, Ranger."

"You need to stay away from me, Stephanie. I'm nothing but trouble to you," he warned again, but he didn't move away from her. In fact, he moved closer.

She moved her hands up, until she was able to wrap her arms around his neck and sink her fingers into the back of his long, silky hair. She lifted her thigh and rubbed it between his legs. She felt the evidence of his arousal and it fueled her own, which was almost out of control. His hand dropped from her neck so he could grab her hips, drawing her into his body. She moaned softly as she rode his leg, just for a moment, before pushing him away.

He moved back a step, clearly allowing her control over the situation. They stood there, both catching their breath, neither of them speaking. She wasn't even sure she could.

He finally clenched his hands into a fists and turned his back on her. "Stay away from me, Stephanie."

"Steph," she corrected as she moved past him, blocking the door. He looked down at her and lifted that eyebrow again. "Fine. I'll stay away from you, for now, but if you can't stay away from me then all bets are off."

She turned away, tugged her skirt down, and strode out of the room with a smile on her face. She was sure that he was just as affected by her as she was by him. She'd felt the proof. He couldn't hide that. She also figured he wasn't much different than any other man. His physical interest wouldn't allow him to stay away from her. So she hadn't gotten the information she wanted, but she got his attention. That was the first step. She'd win this battle yet.

Lula eyed her as she came back to the table. "You ready to go?" Steph asked her.

"Manny's driving me home," Lula answered with a little blush that Steph thought was amusing.

"Going to heaven, huh?" she teased.

Lula frowned, but shrugged. Then her eyes moved to the empty chair, the one that Ranger had occupied, before looking back at Steph. So she noticed that Ranger had followed. Probably not good. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered with a little smile. "I just need to get going, that's all."

Lula gave her a little smile. "You stay outta trouble, white girl."

"You too, Lula. Thanks for joining me." She looked back toward the restrooms, but didn't see Ranger. That was probably just as well, she didn't want him to see her looking back. Her prior exit had been so cool.


	7. Chapter 7

_****Finally done with this chapter, no wonder it was beating me up…it turned into over 5000 words. Yeesh. **_

_**Anyway, thank you so much for the reviews. I really appreciate them. I'm glad so many of you are enjoying the chemistry between "my" Ranger and Steph. I hope I can continue to pull them together so well. **_

_**So, a lot happens in this chapter, let me know what you think. I always enjoy reading your thoughts. Thanks again.****_

Chapter 7

Ranger watched her pull that tiny little skirt over her luscious ass then walk out the door. He could hardly believe the nerve of that woman, telling him off, then making sure she got the final word. It was unbelievable. No one dared to speak to him that way. God, was she irritating…and sexy as hell. He couldn't forget that. No, that's probably why he couldn't stop grinning to himself when the door slammed shut behind her.

What else could it be? She was dressed like she stepped out of a wet dream. That short skirt didn't hide any of her assets and that top hinted at untold pleasures he had yet to discover, but, by God, he wanted to discover every one of them, inch by sweet inch. He definitely wanted her more than any woman he'd ever laid eyes on. Yet, part of him wondered if what he was feeling at the moment was more than just physical desire, but what?

Obviously, he was relieved that she was feeling better than the last time he'd seen her. He imagined what she'd really be like. This, however, was even better than what his mind had created. God, did he enjoy her feisty attitude. It suited her much better than the emotional wreck he'd taken care of last week. Even though he knew her behavior that day was circumstantial, the level of fire in her today was unexpected.

Of course, her strength was what first intrigued him and he'd wanted to see more than the hint of it she'd displayed before she went into see Ramirez. He just never imagined that having that heat fully directed at him would fuel the fire she'd already lit inside him. Damn he liked how proud and fearless she was. It turned him on more than the skirt had.

He reached down to adjust himself. One good thing about the baggy-ass jeans he had to wear was that the evidence of their encounter was hidden, for the most part. It wouldn't do for anyone to know just how much she had affected him, but fuck, did she ever affect him. Especially when she was pressed up against him in all the right places.

He wondered if he should have just gone for it, fucked her and got it out of his system. Clearly his mind was clouded with lust, how else could he explain what had just happened? She made threats, against him, and he didn't stop her. No, he'd been amused. He'd been turned on. He'd been ready to dare her to do her best. It was fucking unbelievable the way she got under his skin with a single look. Damn it. That's why he should have just gone for it, slaked his lust for her and been done with it.

But he hadn't. Nope. He'd been too distracted while he was in her company to think through any of this clearly. Now, though, was a different story.

He wasn't sure what she was up to, or why she was trying to poke her nose into his business, but he knew he had to put a stop to it. Fucking the enemy probably wasn't the way to go about it either, but he did have an idea. She'd made a mistake today. She'd given him the perfect way to deflect her. He was a man of complete and utter control. He prided himself on that. That's why he knew staying away from her would be no problem whatsoever. And as long as he stayed away from her, she promised to stay away from him.

He took her at her word too. She was betting that he couldn't stay away. She wasn't stupid. She felt his hard-on, but he wasn't the type of man she was used to. He didn't think with his dick. He thought with a logical, strategic mind. She wasn't betting on that. So she'd stay away, for now, waiting for him to come to her. Then, hopefully, she'd give up before she figured out that he wasn't playing her games.

Still, it would be fun to play with her. That he was sure of. He wanted to give into the longing to play this out, just to see if he could win. He couldn't. It was too dangerous. For some reason she was the only person to ever see through his disguise, and that wasn't something he had the luxury to play around with. His life wasn't his own, yet. And even if it were, he couldn't be with a woman like her.

Shit. This was all his own fault. If he'd just sent the bag and car back with one of his guys she wouldn't have come looking for him, but he was weak. He'd been worried about her and used it as a way to ease his mind. The only problem was, when he got to her house his mind hadn't been eased at all. He heard a thump, then her vomiting upstairs. He knew what vomiting in conjunction with a head injury meant. He'd had too many of his own concussions not to recognize the signs.

So he went upstairs and found her asleep on the floor. He lifted her and placed her back in her bed. He cleaned the wound and found more ice to apply to it. He should have gone then, but he was afraid the injury was worse than it looked. So he stayed. He cleaned up her bedroom and her bathroom, clearly she'd taken a hasty shower and had gotten sick a few times in there. Then he waited with her, waking her every hour to check her eyes and force water down her throat.

She was having nightmares too, he could tell, and that pained him the most. He knew what nightmares did to a person, he had his own. So he soothed her and hushed her with promises to protect her from Ramirez. Of course, those weren't lies. Aside from taking care of her, he didn't want to leave her helpless if Ramirez were to show up to pick up where he left off earlier that day.

He hadn't given up on protecting her after that night either. He kept a guard on her. He had a security team hidden near her house. He had her tracked and followed when she went out. She was well protected from Ramirez, but he didn't do any of it himself. He couldn't go back to her. Even if it was taking all the strength he had to stay away, he would.

He'd felt too connected to her that night. Connected enough that he wanted to come clean with her, tell her everything, and allow her to tell him what she knew. He imagined that working together would be infinitely better than doing so alone, but he couldn't risk it. He still didn't know what she was snooping around for. He didn't know how loyal she was to Morelli. And he didn't know if she was a hidden player in this mess. Those were big factors that couldn't be overlooked. He may be compelled to protect her, but he wasn't going to be stupid enough to go to her again.

No, he was done with her. He'd see that she got out of here safely, then put an end to his interest. Immediately.

He wiped the smile from his face and was once again wearing that hard, blank look that he was known for. Instead of following her into the bar, he went out the back door into the alley. He moved toward the road, keeping out of sight. He'd watch her from here, there was no reason for her to know that he was hanging around.

He shook his head when he saw Morelli's SUV parked at the curb. He felt slightly guilty about putting her back in the SUV, but how was he to know she was going to drive it straight back to Stark? How could she possibly be that ignorant about the danger she was in, yet be so intuitive about him? It was baffling really. Plus it left him wondering if he'd misjudged her again. Maybe she really wasn't a threat.

Shit. He didn't know what to think anymore, and that was something that rarely happened to him. He didn't like it either, but on the chance that she was just walking around not knowing the danger she was in, he wondered if he should take the time to spell it out to her, again. He shouldn't. She'd probably consider that his move and he didn't want to give her any reason to seek him out again. Not if he could help it. So then what? Let her endanger herself, again. He couldn't do that either, damn it.

His thoughts were shut off when she stepped out the front door, digging through her purse. He stepped toward the edge of the wall, as close as he could without revealing himself. It was like he was drawn toward her and he couldn't help himself. Christ. He was close enough that he could touch her, but she didn't seem to notice him in the shadows. She was completely oblivious to everything around her, including the car that slowed down across the street.

Ranger saw the driver reaching, he didn't waste time waiting to see what the guy was going for. He grabbed her arm, pulled her into the alley, and then threw her to the ground with his body covering hers. They hit the ground hard, but he'd managed to get an arm around her, protecting her head from the impact. Unfortunately he couldn't protect her from his crushing weight. The best way to cover her was to press into her body, flattening them both to the ground.

The explosion rocked their bodies as debris rained over them, some even breaking the skin on his arms and back. Once the glass stopped falling, he rolled enough to see her SUV was engulfed in flames. He figured it was a drive-by, but wasn't about to wait to see if anyone was coming to look for them. He lifted her from the ground, wrapped an arm around her waist, and hauled her to the back of the alley.

He pulled his gun and held his finger to his lips while he pointed toward the edge of the building. She seemed to understand. She moved behind him and waited while he cleared the narrow passage between the buildings. He needed to get her out of sight, so he grabbed her hand and ran for the buildings across the path. The third building they came across had an open back door.

It was an empty storeroom that looked long deserted. It was dark and dirty, but it was empty. He locked the door behind them and pulled a steel table across the door. He needed a minute to think, but he didn't get it.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Someone blew up your SUV," he told her, as he pulled out his phone to text the guys his situation.

"It wasn't mine," she answered immediately. Her voice was shaky and a little higher pitched than normal, but at least she seemed to have her wits about her. He moved closer, so he could look at her. He used his phone to illuminate her face. He was wondering if she was going to go into shock or if she was about to freak out on him, but she appeared calm. "Were they trying to kill me or Morelli?"

That stopped him cold. By giving that SUV back to her, he just about got her killed. Why didn't he anticipate that? He should have, but when was the last time he saw a drive-by firebomb for Christ's sake? That wasn't a good enough excuse though, it could just as easily been bullets fired into her. Fuck. "Hard to say," he answered in all honesty.

"Why would anyone want to kill me though?" she asked again. That was also a question he couldn't answer, but maybe she could. "Maybe it was just a coincidence." Doubtful.

He moved his phone down, looking her over. Her left arm was scraped and bleeding, as were both her knees, and the top of her right foot. He lifted her onto a solid wooden counter in the middle of the backroom, then lifted her foot for a better look. Her ankle was puffy. "Are you alright? Can you walk on this?"

"Yeah," she whispered back, drawing his eyes to her face. "I'm fine, just scraped up."

He rubbed some dirt and stones off her cheek, then closed his eyes. He did this to her and it was killing him to know it was his fault. "I'm sorry. I didn't know what he was reaching for when I grabbed you."

She shrugged back at him. "You saved me again." He wasn't about to take credit for this. It was his fault she'd been there in the first place. He moved away, shining his phone light around, trying to find something useful. "There's a first aid kit on the wall, near the sink. I think this was a bakery at some point. It looks like the one I worked at when I was in high school."

She was probably right. The white dust was probably flour, not the thick dirt he first thought it was. She was right again when he found the first aid kit still intact. It wasn't any more than burn cream, antiseptic wipes, and bandages, but it was better than nothing. He laid it on the counter next to her and went to work, cleaning off her scrapes then bandaging them the best he could.

"How'd you learn to do that?" she asked quietly.

"I got beat up a lot when I was a kid, lots of bandages." He surprised himself by answering her truthfully, yet it felt good to give a real detail about his life for once.

She laughed. "I didn't mean the bandages. I meant covering me and clearing the alley like you did," she told him. "It seemed second nature to you."

He stopped dabbing the injury on her arm and looked back into her face. "It is second nature to me. I was in the Army for a while." Again, it was another truth.

She reach out for him, laying her hands on his biceps. She immediately pulled away and looked at her hand, it was full of blood. "You're hurt," she accused.

"I'm fine," he argued. "Some glass hit me."

"How much?" He shrugged at her, it didn't matter. He could barely feel it at the moment. "You protected me from the glass too."

He frowned at her. He didn't want to be painted as some sort of hero. "I thought they were going to shoot at you."

Wrong thing to say. "You were going to take a bullet for me?" she almost shrieked, then immediately calmed down. "Okay, well, take your shirt off."

Okay, so maybe it wasn't the wrong thing to say. He grinned back at her, knowing the smile would set her off-kilter again. "Trying to get me naked, babe?" he teased.

She blushed, but didn't back down. Instead she grabbed the bottom of his tee shirt and pulled it up his chest. Who was he to argue with the woman? He lifted his arms and let her struggle to pull it over his head. She was staring at his bare chest like she saw a big, chocolate cake she wanted to devour and he felt himself getting turned on by the idea. He turned, almost immediately, baggy pants or not he didn't want to embarrass himself. He hadn't had such problems controlling that part of his anatomy since he was seventeen. "I think my neck got the worst of it," he told her.

He saw her own phone light come on behind him. Her light touch butterflied across his skin, sending tingles through his body, straight to his cock. God, this was torture. "Crap," she muttered. "You've got glass slivers in some of them."

He glanced back over his shoulder. She was rummaging around in that giant handbag of hers. Then she pulled out a make-up bag. "I don't need a makeover," he teased.

She rolled her eyes at him and pulled out a tweezers set. "Eyebrow kit."

He lifted his own eyebrow at her. "You do your eyebrows on the go?"

She gave him an annoyed look, then shrugged. "I always see random, missed hairs when I look into the car's make-up mirror, must be the sunlight."

He laughed at her. "So you just sit in your car and pull out your eyebrows?"

"Lucky for you I do, or I wouldn't have this. Now hold still, I'm going to pull the glass out."

Ow, fuck. He bit his tongue to keep from cursing and held absolutely still. No way would she know how much that hurt. After nearly fifteen minutes she squeezed his shoulder. "I got what I could. You might want to have someone look in better light though."

"Thank you."

He turned around to face her again. His lust had cooled from the pain of the slivers, but it came back almost immediately. She leaned in, touching the side of his neck. "No glass in this one," she whispered. Then she dabbed it with the cleanser and applied a bandage, but her fingers didn't retreat when she was done. Instead, they drifted down over his chest, toward his waist. His muscles tensed under her light caress, but he managed to stay still, letting her explore at her leisure. She took her time, tracing the ridges of his muscles, circling his nipples, tracing the light line hair on his lower abdomen. God, she was killing him with pleasure. Then her fingers curled around the waistband of his boxers and she pulled him toward her, until he was nudged tightly between her legs.

He couldn't hold back anymore, there was no stopping whatever this was between them. His own hands moved to her bare shoulders, pulling her against him. She nuzzled against his neck and he did the same with her hair. She smelled so good he could eat her alive, man did he want to. He touched his lips to her shoulder, her neck, her jaw. His nose brushed against hers, his fingers moved up into those soft curls so he could tilt her head back into the perfect angle, and his mouth lowered toward hers.

Then his phone buzzed loudly against the wooden counter. She jerked away from him, clearly startled by the noise. Shit. The moment was gone, but that was probably for the best. He wasn't sure he could stop with just one kiss, better not to know. He grabbed his phone and answered. "Yo."

"Hector and Miguel got them," Lester reported. "Followed them from the scene when they saw you had the girl. You're without coverage at the moment." It didn't matter. They were safe enough at the moment.

He glanced at her, then stepped away so she wouldn't overhear too much. "What did they find?"

"Just two kids. They say some guy gave them the bottle, then paid them to drive by and toss the bomb at the SUV. Hec says they seem too dumb to make that up."

Ranger wasn't surprised by that. Tossing a firebomb at Mel's was a death sentence and everyone knew it, except those punks. Ranger glanced back at Steph and ran a hand through his hair. "Was the woman the target?"

"Not sure. They say they only did it because they were getting paid."

He sighed. He heard the disbelief in Santos's voice, and it mirrored his own thoughts. They had to know more than they were letting on, a description at the very least. Hector had ways to make people sing, but he wouldn't employ them without Ranger's say so. Honestly, Ranger wasn't sure if he was ready to go that far yet. Maybe he could make them chirp without Hector's convincing. "Detain them. I'd like to speak to them. I also need a ride."

"Your car is out front, the girl's house has been cleared, and we have a crew on the property," Lester told him. And that was why he trusted his guys. "Later."

Ranger hung up and looked back at Stephanie. He moved over to her and lifted her off the counter. "Our ride is here."

"Okay, good," she answered, digging through her purse again. He watched her dump some cough drops into the handbag then stuff all the wrappers, dirty wipes, and glass shards into the empty package. "Leave no evidence, right?"

He grinned and shook his head. "We didn't commit a crime."

"Yeah, but in this neighborhood it's likely a crime will be committed. Why leave DNA behind?" she asked smartly.

"Good thinking," he told her, though he silently laughed. With the amount of drug needles, used condoms, and God knows what else lying around in every alley he doubted anyone would notice a few bloody wipes, but if it made her feel better she could do what she wanted with them.

He pulled out his gun and nodded toward the front of the building. She nodded back and got into position behind him. He moved up the hall to the storefront, with her hands fisted into the back of his tee shirt. He pushed her back behind the wall and looked out the front door. He glanced up and down the street. There was no activity and his car was only twenty feet away.

He took her hand and moved her in front of him, pointing at his car. "Run, get in as fast as you can," he told her.

To her credit she did as she was told. She pulled open the passenger door of his BMW and jumped in. He covered her until the door slammed, then got in himself. He didn't waste time getting them out of there. He didn't need anyone to see them together. "Relax, the windows are tinted," he told her a few blocks later.

She finally leaned back and took a deep breath. "Did Ramirez do this?"

"I doubt it." A car bomb was way too impersonal for Ramirez. He wanted to hurt her with his bare hands, not eliminate her that way, but Ranger didn't tell her that.

She nervously fiddled with the strap on her bag. "So you think they were after Morelli then?" she asked again. He wished he could say yes, but he couldn't. Not yet.

"That's possible." It was also possible that this was a warning. They didn't wait until she was in the car, they did it so she would get hurt, not killed. But a warning for whom, her or Morelli? That's what he needed to find out. "Did Morelli tell you anything about what he was working on? Did he give you anything to hold onto for him? Have you met any of his contacts?"

"No, nothing," she answered, and it seemed truthful to him. "He never told me anything about his cases." She was silent for a few minutes before looking back at him. "I never even heard of Carmen before that night. Do you know what kind of information she was giving him?"

Christ. He wasn't about to get into that at the moment, no matter how much he'd like to tell her about her boyfriend and what he was doing with Carmen. "You have no reason to believe me, but I didn't have anything to do with what happened at Carmen's apartment that night," he confessed to her. "But I'd like to figure it out."

"You and me both," she agreed before falling back into silence.

He relaxed as they got out of Trenton. He settled back into his seat and turned the radio on low. He was going to take a nice, long drive just to be sure no one tailed them.

Ten minutes later she looked at him, then back at the highway. "Where are we going?"

"The long way home," he answered. "I don't want anyone following us. It'll be better if no one connects the two of us."

"Is that why you want me to stay away from you?" she asked.

"I'm not the safest man to be seen with. I tend to make enemies easily. I don't want anyone to hurt you, because you were seen with me," he agreed, though he withheld the other reasons. The ones she couldn't know about.

She went silent again, staring out the window like it would help her figure things out. "You're not just a gang enforcer are you?" she finally asked.

"That's what I am at the moment."

She sighed and closed her eyes. "Fine, I'll let it go. Just tell me you're a good guy. Tell me you didn't set up Morelli, you didn't have anything to do with Carmen and the other witnesses' disappearances, and that you aren't working for the bad guys," she nearly pleaded.

Christ. He didn't want her thinking there could be something between them, but he didn't want her thinking she couldn't trust him either. "Babe…"

"Ranger, please. I'll let it all go. I'll stop poking around. I'll stop trying to find you. Please, just tell me the truth," she said, her voice starting strong then ending in a quivering whisper. "I just want to know the truth."

He knew by the look on her face that the truth was something she'd been lacking lately. He wished he could give it to her. "That's why you went to see Ramirez then?"

She wiped her face and stared out the front window. "My life is falling apart and I have no idea why. Joe owed me the truth, but wasn't man enough to give it to me." So she went looking for it and found Ramirez, and him. Damn it.

"I can't tell you what you want to know. I don't know what happened that night." She nodded, but still didn't look at him. "I'm not working for the people responsible for any of it. I swear that's the truth." He wished he could tell her that he was here looking for the same information, but he couldn't. He couldn't get her involved more than she already was.

She didn't reply, instead she reached over and took his hand in hers, then held it. He turned it in her grasp and clasped her fingers in return. That connection was deeper than anything he'd ever felt with another woman. He decided to cling to it, until the last moment. Until he had to walk away for good.

His phone buzzed, interrupting them again, a text. _Cops at the Plum house._ Shit. "You got cops at your house already."

"Crap," she said looking at him. "If Eddie heard about this he's probably worried."

She was probably right about that. The force knew her, too well. "Eddie?" he asked.

"Gazzara, he's my cousin." Shit. Gazzara wasn't a dirty cop, as far as Ranger knew, but he worked closely with some. "What do I tell him? He knew I was driving Joe's SUV."

Ranger already knew she hadn't moved the vehicle since he'd returned it last week, but she couldn't know he was tracking her movements. "Has anyone seen you drive it since I returned it?" She nodded no. "Then tell them it was stolen last week and you haven't seen it since."

"Okay."

"We're claiming it was a rival gang, directed at our hangout. The cops might not buy it, but they won't be able to disprove it. No one saw you in the restaurant," he told her. "Got it?"

"They're covering for me?"

"They're covering for me," he corrected. "You're under my protection."

"Oh." She blushed for a second before looking away.

"Steph, can you do this?" he asked her. "Can you keep everything to yourself?"

"Yeah, sure," she agreed after a moment, but he wasn't convinced.

He took her hand again and squeezed her fingers. "Someone is trying to kill you, or at the very least threatening you. You need to watch yourself. No more Stark Street . No more Kings' hangouts. No more looking for me."

"But…" she started, but he cut her off.

"No, as of right now, you're done."

She tore her hand away in anger. "Even if I stay away from you, I'm still in danger. How am I supposed to live like that?"

He wanted to argue, but she was right. "I'll keep digging and I'll figure out what's going on."

She snorted and shook her head in disbelief. "And I'm supposed to trust you?"

God, she was frustrating. He just wanted to shake some sense into her. "You don't have to trust me, but you have to stop purposely endangering yourself."

"I didn't know I was endangering myself," she grumbled, but he could tell he was finally getting to her.

"Listen to my advice then. It's not a guarantee that you'll be safe, but it'll be a lot harder to get to you in your neighborhood than in mine."

She crossed her arms and legs defensively and stared out the window while she thought about what he said. "Fine," she huffed.

"You'll stay away?"

"Yeah, sure."

"And you'll need to stick with the cover story, with everyone: police, friends, family…boyfriend."

"I know," she hissed in annoyance. "I said I would. I guess you'll just have to trust me too."

Christ. She had a way of knocking him down a peg, but she had a point too. He was asking her to believe in him blindly, he'd be a hypocrite not to give her the same curtesy. The problem was that trusting just wasn't in his nature. He hated the idea of relying on her not to bring police attention to his door. He hated the idea of handing her all the power between them. Most of all, he hated that he wanted to trust her. That was way too dangerous.

"Alright," he finally agreed, though he wasn't sure where the word came from.

"Fine, I'll cover for you and keep your name out of this so you can keep up your charade and in return you figure out why they're trying to kill me," she agreed stonily. "Then, when this is done, you'll tell me who you really are."

He shook his head, unbelievable. He was pretty sure he was making a deal with the devil herself. There was no other way to explain the way she tempted him to agree to madness like this. But what else could he do at this point? "Deal."

She acknowledged his agreement with a nod of her head and went back to looking out her window. He turned the car back toward Trenton, approaching from the opposite side of town. "I can't take you home," he warned.

"Take me to my friend Mary Lou's, she'll drive me home no questions asked," she said, then gave him the address. "And I don't have a boyfriend…just so you know."

He glanced over at her, then back at the road. He heard the invite in that statement and fought to keep his lips from curving into a smile. "Good to know."


	8. Chapter 8

_****Sorry the update took so long. It was another long chapter, and it battled for attention with my sick three year old. I'm still not sure if the editing is right or not, forgive any mistakes…my mind is mush. **_

_**I know some of you were patiently waiting on this chapter ;-) But I'm not sure if this chapter is going to scratch your itch for an update or not. It's all Ranger. Stephanie's POV will be next and then we'll get some r/s heat back in here. **_

_**Anyway, thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews and thank you for reading along. I really appreciate it. And I'll try to be quicker with the next update. ****_

Chapter 8

When Ranger left the dilapidated house that Hector and Miguel had brought their prisoners to, he was beyond disappointed. He wished he could have expended a little of his anger with his fists, but they were just kids. Annoying little shitheads, but kids none the less. Hell, they weren't even old enough to drive. The asshole who'd hired them supplied a stolen car for them to drive. Ranger was sure they were specially chosen for this job because they were too young to know that the amount of cash offered wasn't worth it. They were probably just looking for a thrill or to feel like bad-asses, unfortunately they were set up to take the fall for this.

Hector found three grand on them and the amount was confirmed as their payment when Ranger spoke to them. Of course, they weren't willingly talking to his guys, but they knew who he was and they looked appropriately terrified to be left alone with him. He didn't want to ruin his image so he took a nasty looking knife from his ankle sheath and laid it on the table that stood between him and the boys. Then he stared at them until they broke. It didn't take long. Within a few minutes they had spilled their guts. The problem was, they didn't know anything of importance.

They said they were approached by a well-dressed, white guy. He was old, probably in his thirties (which Ranger fought the urge to laugh at, having just turned thirty himself). He was five foot ten with a medium build. He had gelled dark hair, a fake tan, and wore sunglasses, a giant gold watch, and a dark blue suit. Plus, he wore too much Polo cologne, just like one of the kids' Grandpa did.

The physical description sucked, it described half the male population of Trenton. So he went a step further, showing them some photos, but they said their guy wasn't pictured. He believed them. They were scared enough that he was sure they weren't lying. He almost wished they were.

He hated the idea of an unknown threat. The men in those photos were known players in this game. If the kids could have fingered one of them, things would have been nice and easy. He could have tied the bomb to either Alpha or one of the mob players he was working with. Then he'd know where the threat to Stephanie was coming from and, hopefully, be able to figure out what Morelli had on these guys. Instead, he'd have to go on some wild goose chase to find some poorly dressed, Polo wearing Guido just so he could find out who paid him to hire the kids. What a waste of time. He knew it'd never pan out. It was another road block, just like the other hundred he'd run into since starting this investigation.

Finally he asked the boys what their target was, the SUV, the bar, or a person. The kids immediately got twitchy. They didn't want to answer that. So he picked up the knife and ran his finger across the blade, like he was testing the sharpness, while he settled his death glare on them again. One of the boys started crying and the other stared back and asked if the girl got hurt.

Ranger yanked him out of the chair and tossed him into the wall. He demanded to know if the girl was supposed to be hurt. The kid was shaking in fear, but said that he tossed it early, so it would miss her. He didn't want to hurt her, but the guy who hired him hadn't cared if she was hurt or not. This guy wanted to piss off her boyfriend, didn't matter if she was scared, hurt, or killed.

Ranger dropped the kid onto the floor and left the room. The guys would take care of the kids. Because of the questioning they couldn't turn them over to the police, but they could scare the shit out of them, threaten them, and then return them to their parents who'd be encouraged to take a vacation for a few weeks. It'd be safer for them if whoever hired them didn't see them walking around. If they found out the kids squealed, they'd get rid of them. No matter how much Ranger wanted to pound their asses, he didn't want to be partially responsible for their deaths.

After that he'd driven home, met with his guys about what happened, and went up to his apartment for dinner. His mind was on Stephanie Plum all evening. He was still trying to figure out what had happened between them earlier.

He assumed she'd kept her word since the police weren't searching Stark Street for him, but then who knew? She could be working with the police, maybe she was trying to set him up. He took a long sip of his beer and closed his eyes. The problem was he didn't believe that for a minute. He believe she was just want she seemed to be, a good girl caught in something bad. Just the type of girl he should avoid. Not to mention that no matter what she claimed earlier, she and Morelli were deeply involved.

He knew that shouldn't bother him, but it did. If there was one man on Earth that deserved her less than Ranger, it had to be Morelli. The guy was reckless, self-centered, egotistical, and just plain out scum, but, for some reason, women seemed blind to that. Ranger supposed Morelli was charming when he wanted to be. He saw Morelli work his magic on Carmen, that had pissed him off, but Morelli using his charm against Stephanie ratcheted that anger up to a nearly combustible state. Why couldn't they see that they were being used for his gain? Why were they so loyal to him? So…in love?

Ranger pushed his plate away and wandered into his home office. He opened the file on his laptop and stared at the contents. Fucking Morelli. This entire mess was his fault. If not for him, Ranger would have convinced Carmen to leave town months ago, then she wouldn't be missing. Missing. Christ, he was being optimistic to think she was still out there. He knew she was probably dead. Ramirez didn't like to share, he wouldn't have allowed Alpha to get rid of her in his way.

He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. He shouldn't have listened to Carmen. He should have grabbed her and flown her to Miami when he had the chance. Even if it meant keeping her locked in one of his safe-houses indefinitely, he should have done it. Why'd he let her have her way? Fuck. It was just as much his fault for not removing her, as it was Morelli's for convincing her to help him.

He opened his eyes when his computer alerted him to a new sound file, Stephanie's phone tap. He stared at it. He'd checked other calls, all her mother or her friend Mary Lou, which he hadn't listened in on. He didn't feel right about spying when it wasn't work related. He had some morals. He was going to ignore this call too, but something made him hit play.

Unfortunately, it wasn't what he wanted to hear at all.

"_What?" Stephanie growled instead of her usual hello. _

"_Cupcake, it's me." _

Cupcake? If that wasn't the cherry on top of his shitty day he didn't know what was_. "Joe?" she said sounding surprised. _

"_Are you alright?" Morelli asked quickly._

"_I'm fine," she grumbled back. "Where are you?"_

Ranger smiled, that was his girl, getting right down to business. _"I heard about the SUV. What were you doing at Mel's?" Morelli grumbled back just as loudly._

"_I wasn't. Someone stole it last week," she lied_. Ranger's lips tipped up into a little smile. She was keeping her word.

_Morelli was quiet for a beat too long. "You're full of shit. They got photos of you, walking into the restaurant with a hooker. Explain that to me." _Fuck. What else did they get photos of?

"_They? Who are they?" she evaded answering. _

_Morelli ignored her question too. "Listen to me. You need to pack up some of your things and get out of town for a couple weeks. Go to the beach or something," he suggested, kind of aggressively. _

Ranger smirked when he heard her snort before answering_. "I'm not running away now. I want to enjoy my house while I still can."_

"_Jesus," Morelli bitched back at her. "I'm sorry you're losing the house, alright, but I can't go back to jail. Not now. They'll have me killed."_

"_Who?" she yelled. _Ranger knew the answer to that question, Alpha. It was the why that he was still trying to figure out.

_Morelli was quiet for a moment again before speaking, "I can't tell you anything. It'll put you in even more danger." _

"_More danger than a firebomb?" she fired back. "Why are they after me, Joe? What did you do?" There wasn't an answer to that. "If you tell me what's going on I can help you," she offered. _

Ranger sat up and clenched his fists. He didn't like the soft tone she'd used. She was breaking down. Damn it. _"Cupcake, you don't understand what I'm up against here," Morelli said just as gently. _That fucker was trying to charm her into giving up the fight.

"_Explain it to me then," she offered. "I got all night." _She made that sound absolutely suggestive and Ranger was ready to storm over there and demand she stay away from Morelli, but he remembered the last time he made that demand. It practically drove Carmen into Morelli's bed. So, instead, he sat and listened.

Morelli took a deep breath and Ranger could almost hear the gears turning. Morelli was trying to figure out how to get out of this._ "It's complicated," he said. _That was about the lamest excuse ever.

"_I didn't think it'd be easy. Easy doesn't usually include bombs," she grumbled back at him, once again gaining her backbone. "Did Ramirez do this? Did he set you up?" _

Morelli must have figured he didn't stand a chance of charming her out of her anger after all and Ranger felt a wave of relief wash over him as their conversation when downhill. _"Listen to me. You need to stay out of this. Don't go back down to Stark Street. Don't go to my apartment. Don't go to Mel's. Don't talk to Ramirez or any of the other thugs that hang out down there," Morelli ordered. _

Ranger wanted to find him so he could punch his smug face. Morelli had to know it was too late for all that. She'd been to his apartment. She'd been driving his truck for a month. She had a face-to-face with The Champ. She'd been seen by a good chunk of the Stark crowd. She was in it up to her eyeballs now._ "And then what? What are you going to do about this? How do you make this go away?" she asked, clearly knowing there was no easy way out. _

_Morelli stalled again before speaking, "I'm going to have to disappear for a while, which is why I need to know you're out of town where they can't touch you."_

"_Damn it, Joe. Just tell me what you did," she practically screamed at him._

"_Just get out of town," he shouted back. _

"_No."_

"_What do you mean no? Why will you never listen to reason?" he shouted again. _

"_What do you care if I'm in danger? Leave, I'll deal with this on my own just like I always do," she shouted back. _

"_Of course I care. I don't want you hurt and you know it," he soothed. _

"_How would I know that? You ran out on me in the middle of the night, without a goodbye," she answered. "That hurt me, Joe." _

"_Christ. I don't have time for your tender, female feelings right now. They're threatening you to get at me," he bitched. "Just get out of town so they can't touch you."_

"_I'm not running away. I'm not a coward like you," she hissed. _

"_Fuck," he yelled. "I've been trying to see you, but they've been watching your house. Isn't that reason enough to get out of there?"_

"_Why have you been trying to see me?" she asked in an irritated voice._

"_Can't a man want to see the woman he loves?" Morelli asked innocently. _

"_Of course, but we both know that doesn't apply here," she answered. "So cut the shit, what do you want from me?"_

"_I want you out of that house. You're not safe."_

"_What are they threatening to do to me?" she asked casually. "Rape me? Kidnap me? Blow me up?"_

"_Shit, I gotta go. Leave, go stay with your parents, or better yet, your sister," he said quickly. _

"_Don't hang up…"_

"_Watch your back, Cupcake."_

"_Shit. Joe?" she said, but the line was disconnected. _

Ranger called the control room for a trace, but Tank already sent a team to the call location. So he listened again, looking for any clue he could have missed. Of course, there was none. All he heard was the desperation in Morelli's voice, which made him wonder what they had really threatened him with. Could it really be as simple as Stephanie's life?

Ranger knew it could be that simple. He only knew the woman a short time and had been ready to lay his life on the line for her. Perhaps Morelli was just worried like he said. For some reason Ranger didn't believe it though. His gut was telling him there was another reason Morelli wanted her out of that house, but why?

He wondered if Stephanie had the same feeling. Was that why she refused to listen to him? Or was she just too hurt and angry that he left her? Ranger wasn't sure. He wasn't sure why he wanted the answer to that question so badly either. It really shouldn't matter to him one way or another if she was over Morelli. Still, he couldn't deny he had a sick feeling in his stomach when he thought she was softening toward the other man. Christ. What was wrong with him?

He picked up his cell and called Hal. He and his partner Zip were checking on Morelli's cell signal. After listening to Hal's explanation Ranger was ready to throw his phone through the window. "Fuck," he growled to himself.

Morelli had routed, what he assumed was a second burner phone, through the one they found duct taped to the bottom of a park bench. Ranger wouldn't be surprised to find that there were one or two more phones networked into this either. He knew the move well. It was one he saw done more than once by some of the CIA agents he worked with. The problem was there was only one located in Trenton, at least that he was aware of.

Ranger changed into black cargos and a black tee shirt. Then added two guns, a knife, and a condom just in case things got away from him, and he was ready to go.

88888888888888

He knocked on the door of the condo and waited for her to open the door. He knew she looked at her video monitor before coming to the door, so the gun in his face as she cracked the door was just for fun. At least what she called fun. She smiled and cocked an eyebrow at him as she swung the door open and ushered him in with her drawn gun. "Ranger," she purred. "You should have called first."

"Are you already entertaining?" he questioned as he ignored her gun and walked into the living room.

"No, but I could be. If I were to wait for you, I'd be a very lonely woman," she grinned as she tucked the gun in her back waistband.

"Have you spoken to Joe Morelli?" he asked as he sat down on the couch and struck a laid back pose that he knew would piss her off.

He saw the little wrinkles between her delicately waxed brows as she glared at him. She flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder and crawled onto the couch next to him. She was a beautiful women, thin and tall, with enhanced breasts that weren't really his style, but he'd never complain about them either. She tried to use them to her advantage by leaning into him and smiling invitingly. "Wouldn't you rather discuss Joe Morelli after we settled our…personal business?"

He knew this was how it would go. It was always how it went. He was never able to live as a monk, but picking up strangers or sleeping with the women that hung around the gang didn't appeal to him at all. The gang girls were too young and they'd want more than just sex anyway. They'd expect to be his woman, a label he didn't want placed on anyone. And he didn't trust strangers. He'd never be comfortable letting his guard down with some woman that could very well be a killer, sent by one of his enemies. Pretty packaging didn't fool him, he knew women were just as dangerous as men. The proof of that was rubbing her tits on his arm at the moment.

Jeanne Ellen Burrows was a CIA agent he'd worked with a few times over the years. She was a cold blooded killer. He supposed assassin would be a more apt term, but she swears she gave that up. She was settling down with more domestic cases now. Ranger would never believe a word of it though. It was in her blood, she'd be back at it sooner or later.

When she came to Trenton to investigate a human trafficking ring, they inadvertently found themselves working on the same case again. They shared information when it was vital, and he trusted her to tell the truth. If she didn't want him to know something, she wouldn't say a word rather than lie. He knew they'd never fully trust one another and that was cool with him. He didn't trust anyone, but a few of his men, and was glad she never demanded more from him. They were friends, of sorts. They got each other, they needed the same things, and so it was a mutually beneficial partnership.

Jeanne Ellen was the answer to his celibacy problem, and had been on and off for the past two years. The woman liked to fuck, and she was good at it. She didn't want a relationship. She was too cold and detached to have romantic feelings. Just like him. She didn't blink if he refused to take his gun off while they were intimate, hell, she kept hers under her pillow. She allowed him to use her body whenever and however he wanted, all she asked for in return was that he got her off. She didn't give a shit if he visited every night or once a year. She was ready to go, without questions, whenever they got together. Things couldn't be any simpler than that. In fact, he thought it was a perfect set up. Until this very moment.

He came here expecting they'd end up in her bed, but now he was looking at her. She was rubbing herself against him, her hand was on his thigh, inching upward, and he wasn't turned on at all. Her eyes were on him and there was no emotion in them. It was like her movements were more robotic than heated with passion. Her detached, coolness actually chilled him. He moved, taking her face between his hands to look into her face. He looked for any kind of animation in her features and found none. That's when it occurred to him that he'd never seen her really laugh, or cry, or show any kind of human emotion other than satisfaction or amusement. Sure she was still beautiful, but there was nothing natural about her. She wasn't real. He had no connection to her.

"What are you looking at?" she sighed.

"You," he answered, which made her smile like a feline. She leaned in and pressed her lips to his and he still felt nothing. His fingers combed through her long, straight hair and all he could think was that even her hair had no life to it. It wasn't curly and crazy…like Stephanie's. Suddenly, he gripped her shoulders and pushed her back. "Shit, I can't do this."

She sat back immediately and looked at him. Then she smiled again, perhaps the first smile he'd seen on her face that didn't look menacing. "Oh, Ranger," she laughed in pure amusement. "You're in trouble, aren't you?"

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch. He was in more trouble than he realized before coming here. "I just need to know if you showed Morelli your trick with the burner phones. I tried to trace him tonight and found his call directed to a burner taped to a park bench."

She settled back next to him. "I did," she agreed. "Sorry it worked so well for him."

He didn't believe her for a moment. She liked to see him struggling with a case. "You know where he is?"

"Not at the moment."

He turned his head and looked at her. "When was the last time you saw him?"

She was still smirking at him. "Maybe I'll tell you, if you tell me who the woman is that has you all tied in knots?"

Christ, he hated how perceptive she was. "There is no woman."

"Of course there is," she said. "If you hadn't been thinking about her, your dick would already be inside me."

"Always such beautiful words, Jeanne."

She smirked again. "So it's beautiful words you're looking for now?" she asked. "Are you in love with her?"

Fucking women, they never know when to stop. "I don't do love and you know it."

"No, _we_ didn't do love. I knew sooner or later you'd find a woman that would tempt you to change."

"I haven't changed," he assured her.

The denial didn't stop her gloating though. She was having way too much fun with him. "You will, and I can't wait to watch it happen."

"Not going to happen."

"Oh, Ranger, you can't stop it. You're going to be mooning over her and getting jealous every time she speaks to another man and you're going to want to hold her hand more than bend her over your desk."

"Just stop," he begged. He didn't want to hear anymore. His mind was already too filled with Stephanie Plum, almost every moment of the day, and he hated hearing her speaking with Morelli earlier, and, damn it, he had held her hand. Fuck his life. He needed to stop whatever was happening. He wasn't going to go down that road. He couldn't.

Jeanne didn't stop though, she made it worse. "Then you're going to be _making love_, instead of fucking. Face it, your days of the nail and bail are over. I bet you'll even want to cuddle her afterward," she cackled. He was going to be sick. "This is brilliant, darling. I can't wait to meet her."

"There is no one to meet," he growled back at her. There was no way she was getting anywhere near Steph.

"Of course not," she agreed too easily, then rolled right into the next subject. "I saw Morelli just a couple nights ago."

"Where?"

"Here, of course," she smiled. "You're not my only man friend."

Ranger gritted his teeth. Morelli was so upset by Carmen's disappearance and so worried about Stephanie being in danger that he was here, fucking Jeanne. He was going to kill him when he found him. "When will you see him again?"

"I doubt I will," she shrugged. "He wanted to hire me, but I refused."

God, it was like pulling teeth to get her to say anything worthwhile. "For?"

"To break into his girlfriend's house and pick up a package," she said with a little grin. "Seems like someone put guards on her and he couldn't get in." Her look was a little too knowing. "I didn't want to step on your toes, so to speak."

Yeah, right. Now he wondered what she was up to. "Why do you assume it's me?"

She cocked an eyebrow at him again. "Morelli thinks Alpha has men on her. I didn't correct him. I figured you were trying to catch him by watching the bait." Sometimes it was scary how much they thought alike. "Now, I'm not so sure. Do you have a thing for her, Ranger?"

"No, you were right. Alpha and Ramirez are both after her and Morelli has been trying to see her," he agreed. "I'm protecting her while we watch for Morelli."

He didn't believe for a moment that she bought any of it, but he wasn't admitting to anything more. Besides, what could he say? He wasn't even sure what he was doing with Steph anyway. "Alpha's goons got to Morelli's cousin, who'd been helping him hide out. They found his temporary housing a couple nights ago."

Well shit. "How'd he walk away from that?"

She just shrugged. "It was a warning. They worked him over pretty good. He limped in here black and blue. They gave him three days to give them what they want or they kill the girlfriend. Time runs out tonight."

Fuck. What the hell did Morelli have on them? Did Stephanie know it was in her house?

"Why are you still here?" Jeanne finally asked. "Don't you have a damsel to save and bad guys to catch?"

Man, did he hate that she was right. He stood and looked back down at her. "Can I trust Gazzara?" he asked.

Jeanne hesitated a moment. "He's clean, but his partner is dirty. If he talks, the partner will report the conversation to Alpha."

"Got it."

He headed for the door without a backward glance. There was only one thing on his mind, he had a damsel to save.


	9. Chapter 9

_****Well, this chapter turned into over 7000 words of something completely different than what I was originally thinking. I started writing Steph's POV and realized we needed to know what Ranger was up to at the same time. So anyway, we will go back and forth between them. Hopefully it's easy to follow. **_

_**Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews. I really appreciate them all. I'm so glad you're all enjoying what I put together so far, it makes writing so much fun.****_

Chapter 9

Steph was completely exhausted, but sleep just wouldn't come. Maybe it was because she was wondering if there were really men out there watching her house. Just the thought of that scared her to death. Or maybe it was because she was angry with herself for screwing up her life so badly, again. Or maybe it was because all the men in her life were untrustworthy bullies and she had no idea how to handle them. Or maybe it was just that she was still having problems processing everything that happened today. She wasn't sure and she supposed it didn't even matter. She was emotionally drained. Maybe even wrecked. But that wasn't her fault. Who could blame her for being so distraught after everything that happened?

Someone blew up her car, trying to kill her, for God's sake. Then, to top it off, she was saved by a dangerous man that she was inexplicably attracted to. A man that somehow tricked her into giving up the quest that had been driving her. A man that convinced her to trust him to take care of her problems, when he could very well be the problem himself.

God. She was so stupid. She'd been roped in with his sexual magnetism, too blind to see what he'd been doing to her. He played her. He got her to promise to back off, to give up her life, her home, so he could look into things for her. Ugh. So stupid.

She knew he wasn't going to look into anything. She hadn't even gotten a real name, or a number from him. God. He didn't take her number either. How was he going to contact her like he promised? He wasn't, that's how. That had been his plan all along, and she fell for it. Stupid naïve Stephanie.

Then, if that weren't enough, Morelli called, completely out of the blue. She'd already been upset, but Joe pushed her right off the ledge. He went from trying to sweet talk her, to trying to bully her out of her own house in one breath. He refused to listen to reason or tell her anything she needed to know. It was all about him like usual. He couldn't go to jail. He needed her out of her house. He needed her to trust him and do what he said. He didn't want her used against him. Well, tough titties. She wasn't about to let another man push her around today, or ever. She was so over Joe Morelli. She didn't even know how they managed to date as long as they had. They were completely incompatible.

By the time they hung up, they were both spitting mad and the only thing Steph had gotten out of the conversation was that he wanted her out of the house. No, that wasn't true, she knew he'd been trying to come to the house and she knew it wasn't to see her. She wasn't dumb. She knew she didn't rate high enough on his priority list for him to risk himself just for a visit. That meant one thing, there was something here he wanted, but what?

She spent hours tearing her house apart, looking for whatever it could be. Then just when she was about to give up, she found an envelope slipped inside the seemingly unopened box of the crockpot her mother had given her last Christmas. She only found it, because the dang thing had fallen on her foot when she was digging through the pantry. She decided to take her frustration out on it by tossing it against the wall. Of course, the box opened and there it was.

It was freaking unbelievable, that's what it was. Of course he'd hide something in the one place he knew she'd never look. Jerk.

She kicked the covers off and rolled over, so she could sit on the edge of her bed. She reached over and picked up the envelope, which she'd left lying on the nightstand. She hated that Joe knew her well enough to know she'd never try to cook with that crockpot, almost as much as she hated that he hid some sort of evidence in her house. Now she just needed to figure out what kind of evidence it was, who wanted it, and why. That couldn't be too hard, could it?

She rolled her eyes at herself. She honestly had no idea what to do with it, but she knew if the bad guys wanted it, they really shouldn't get it. She thought about bringing it to the TPD, but something stopped her. Maybe it was because if Joe had trusted them with it, they would have it by now. Or maybe it was because Ranger told her that some of the cops were dirty, and she was starting to believe him. Either way, she knew she couldn't give it to them. So that left her alone in this and she wasn't about to mess things up. What she needed was a plan.

She pulled out the photos and looked them over. There was no one she recognized, but there were boats with armed men unloading boxes into a moving truck, or at least what looked like one to her. There was also another truck with what looked like caskets inside, which were loaded onto the boat. She didn't know what to make of that. She assumed they were trading something, but she had no idea what. She wondered if the answer to that was on the flash drive, which was tucked inside the envelope. Not that she could open it to find out, she didn't have a computer.

She did have a cell phone though. She snapped pictures of each of the photos, getting close ups of the details and faces. It wouldn't hurt to have a back-up copy, in fact she thought it was probably necessary. She put the originals back into the envelope, then traded an old flash drive for the one Morelli hid. Now if someone managed to get the envelope all they'd find were photos of her Grandma Mazur's seventy-fifth birthday party. She planned to take the original flash drive over to Mary Lou's tomorrow. She needed to copy the data before putting it back into the envelope. That was at least the start of a plan. She'd figure out the rest once she saw what was in the files.

She carried the envelope down to the dining room and shoved it back into the box, then placed the box back inside the pantry before going into her kitchen. She pulled a box of Tastykakes out of the cupboard and a cold beer out of the fridge. She wasn't really hungry, but she was stressed. She needed the comfort of the sugar. Hopefully it helped.

Not that the half gallon of ice cream she'd eaten earlier had helped. Then again, neither had the crying. And between the two options, she'd definitely rather stuff her face with junk food than cry again. She hated crying. It made her feel like she was feeling sorry for herself, which she refused to be. So what if she was jobless, and carless, and was going to be homeless, and she only had about eight grand left in her savings account. Sure, it was a crappy situation, but more tears weren't going to help her. She had to pick herself up and get back on her feet. It was the only option…and so what if she did it with a butterscotch krimpet in her hand? She had no shame.

It wasn't like things were hopeless. She could probably get a really cheap used car and she could put a security payment down on a cheap apartment, one that didn't mind that she didn't have a steady paycheck. And maybe she could take a job at the button factory. They were always hiring. She could do a lot of things. The problem was, she couldn't summon up the energy to get excited about any of those things.

She'd had a week of craziness and danger that should have had her running for the hills, but instead had her longing for more adventure in her life. How could she sit at a button machine all day after this? She couldn't. She didn't want her mundane life anymore. She wanted something…more. Now that she had a taste, she knew she'd never stop craving it. Well, maybe not the car explosions or killers on her tail, but the other excitement…like escaping with Ranger, and taunting him, and setting off sexual sparks that were anything but mundane. Boy, did she want him.

Dang it.

She chomped into her Tastykake as she leaned back against the kitchen counter. Maybe wanting him wasn't the worst thing in the world. There was no reason she couldn't see what those sparks were all about without involving her heart. They were both adults, who obviously wanted one another. He didn't seem like he was looking for a commitment any more than she was. At least she didn't think he was, though she could be wrong. Maybe he was already involved with someone, maybe that's why he hadn't kissed her earlier.

She took another bite and sighed to herself. What she needed to do was find him and figure out who he really is once and for all. She could control her urges until then. It wasn't like she was a sex maniac or anything. She could content herself with the shower massager just like any other enterprising single woman could. So what if he looked like he was dipped in creamy mocha topping? And so what if she wanted a taste? There were other, more important, things to figure out first. Like if she could trust him, because she needed help and he seemed to be her only option at this point.

He was smart enough to help her figure things out or maybe put together a plan. He was skilled enough to keep her safe. He was strong enough to protect her. He would be the perfect option, if she only knew who he really was. She couldn't risk telling him anything Joe had said or giving him the photos and flash drive until she was sure. There were just too many unknowns to be able to trust him, yet.

She shoved the rest of the treat into her mouth and opened the bottle of beer. So how the heck could she find him without endangering herself again? She had no idea, but it needed to be soon. She didn't think she had much time, especially if what Joe said was true and someone was planning to use her to get to him.

She slipped another Tastykake from the box, maybe she just needed a little more sugar to work out a plan.

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Ranger didn't want to waste any time getting to Stephanie's house, but once he reached Jeanne's parking lot he already had a plan in place. He called his guys to make sure they had a visual on Stephanie. They were parked across the street in her neighbor's driveway, inside a vehicle of the same make, model, and color as her neighbor's. They found out he worked third shift, so this was the easiest spot for an overnight stake out. They told Ranger she was secure inside the home and had been there since earlier this evening, when her friend dropped her off. He told them about the possible threat to her and then made some threats of his own, she would be protected or they'd face him. They didn't want that.

His second phone call was to Eddie Gazzara, whom he was meeting in just a few minutes. He took the time to switch vehicles, put on his Kings colored sweatshirt, and take the tie from his hair so he'd look like he was expected to. Then he headed across town to the abandoned factory they'd agreed to meet at.

When Ranger pulled his car into the empty lot Gazzara was already parked in a space shaded by the building. Ranger approved of his choice. He parked, got out of his car, and then climbed into the passenger seat of Gazzara's sedan.

"Ranger?" Gazzara asked in surprise.

Ranger nodded back. He hadn't given his identity over the phone, just that he was a friend of Stephanie's and had some information about the trouble she was in. Gazzara didn't like it, but he finally agreed to a secret meeting, without back-up. "Sargent."

"You could have told me it was you," he grumbled. "She get messed up with your gang or something?"

Ranger shook his head no. Gazzara and he were not friends, but they respected each other on a professional level. Ranger was well known by most of the force, because he cleaned house when he took over his position in the gang. He turned in every member of the gang with an outstanding warrant or bounty on them. He got the reputation he was after, plus he made a nice little pocket of cash from those bounties. It also gained him a grudging respect from most of the force. Sure, there were some that'd like to catch him breaking a law, but even those cops couldn't argue that crime was down now that he was walking Stark Street. Of course, if the cops working for Alpha got wind that he was helping Steph there as a good shot there'd be a full out campaign to charge him with something, even if it was a frame job like what they'd done to Morelli.

"Listen." Gazzara immediately shut up and looked at him. "Yer girl got herself all up in Morelli's shit. We heard Ramirez makin' some threats and I'm hearin' that bomb was meant for her."

"Jesus Christ," he cursed and hit his steering wheel. "I told her to stay out of it."

"Me and my boys been watchin' out for her, but she ain't been real friendly in return," Ranger told him knowing Eddie'd hear the sexual implications.

He took the bait and puffed up like an angry daddy. "Is that a threat, because you better not think about using her like that?"

"Nah, man, I don't force girls," he smirked back. "I'd just hate to see somethin' happen to a fine lady like her and she's in big time trouble. She says yer family, figured you'd be able to keep'er safe."

"Yeah, of course," Eddie said looking stunned and not too sure how to accomplish that.

"I kinda liked watchin' her back, but dis shit's gettin' to be too much. Almost blew my boys up today. I can't have 'er shit raining down on us anymore. Wha' she needs is real professional types watchin' her, cause I ain't riskin' my boys without some sorta payment, and she ain't payin', if you know what I mean."

Eddie glared at him. "You're a real class act, Ranger. You won't help her cause she won't sleep with you?"

Ranger just shrugged, irritating Eddie more. "You know wha' you need, Gazzara. Ya need ta get her one of them security firms, like those hard-asses in the black trucks. They look the shit. They even busted some of my boys a few weeks back," Ranger suggested helpfully, now he just had to convince Eddie to take this bait.

"RangeMan? Yeah, I heard good things about them. Military guys I think," Eddie said to himself before looking at Ranger. "I get some security on her and you and your boys will take a hike, for good?"

"If she can stay away from all this," Ranger grinned back as he patted his chest.

"Christ, she's got enough problems without you adding to them. She's a good girl," Eddie warned. "I'll take care of getting guards on her, but you keep your gang away from her."

"No problem, Bro, dat's why I called ya," Ranger told him.

"Good. You know who's threatening her?" Gazzara asked.

Ranger shrugged back at him. "I hear lots a shit. Yer best bet is to keep yer mouth shut. The department's got ears, man." Eddie didn't look surprised by that. "These guys fight dirty and you got a family, Bro. I was you, I wouldn't tell no body shit, not yer woman, not yer boys, not even yer partner. You don't want them comin' for you."

"Jesus Christ," Eddie swore. "You know anything about Morelli, or his case?"

Ranger just lifted his eyebrow at him, he wasn't touching that with a ten foot pole. He opened the door and stepped out of the car.

"Ranger, thanks," Gazzara called after him. He didn't respond. He planted the seeds, now he'd just have to see if Gazzara went for it.

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Stephanie wasn't any closer to figuring out how to find Ranger than she was before the three Butterscotch krimpets. She crawled off her barstool and carried her wrappers to the garbage can. As she walked across the room she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, at the same time she felt someone watching her. She slowly turned toward the window, as if drawn to it. And there he was, illuminated in the moonlight, staring back at her with a big smile on his face. Benito Ramirez.

Oh crap.

She grabbed her phone off the counter and fumbled with the numbers. She didn't wait for the lady to finish her greeting. "I need the police, now. There is someone outside my house trying to break in. He attacked me a few days ago," she yelled before putting the phone back down on the counter without hanging up. Then she grabbed a big knife out of the drawer and hid in the corner, where she couldn't be seen through the window.

Ramirez started tapping on the glass. "Stephanie Plum. I see you in there. I like your panties," he said in a sing song voice, loud enough that she could hear him quite clearly. God, she forgot she was only in her panties and a tank top. He tapped again. "Are your panties wet, Stephanie? Does The Champ get you all hot and bothered, baby?" She closed her eyes and hoped the cops would hurry their asses up. "You make The Champ harder than a rock, Stephanie Plum. The Champ is going to come back later and he's going to fuck you until you can't walk." Oh, God. He was groaning and tapping at the window. Then it stopped, with a loud moan. "The Champ will be back, Stephanie Plum. Be ready for me."

Then she heard feet running outside and someone was rapping on the front door. "Steph, it's me, Big Dog," one of the cops screamed through the door, but she was too scared to move. She just sat there holding the knife in her hands. "Steph, can you answer me?"

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Ranger parked into his Porsche around the corner from Stephanie's house, then pulled the sweatshirt off and tied his hair back again. It took him longer to get here than he hoped, because Gazzara followed him across town. So he had to make like he was going down to Stark, before heading home to switch cars again. It wouldn't do for Gazzara to see his car in Steph's neighborhood and he could only assume that Gazzara was on his way to check up on her. Ranger knew that would be an unfortunate side-effect of bringing him in, but using the cop seemed like the easiest way to get what he needed.

He knew it'd be a lot easier to secure Stephanie if her home wasn't a complete security nightmare. He needed alarms, cameras, and more eyes and ears on her than a pair of guys in car down the road could give. He needed to know that she was safe even when he wasn't there watching her himself. This was the only way he could do that, aside from just taking her away and hiding her from Alpha, but he wasn't there yet. And neither was she.

She'd probably try to kill him if he walked in and started bullying her about her safety right now. He remembered the tone she took with Morelli. She wasn't going to leave her home for anything, on principal. So he'd have to secure her there, but the idea couldn't come from him. She didn't trust him enough for that. That's why he'd have Gazzara do the pitch for him. She trusted Gazzara and she was scared. Ranger figured she'd take the offered help.

And if she refused the additional security, there was always plan B. Kidnap her and hold her in a safe house. Oddly, that plan held a little more appeal for him. It'd be a relief to have her out of sight. Maybe he'd be able to think more clearly if he knew she was away from this mess and safe, but he'd do it her way first. He wasn't completely selfish.

He was just settling into the car for the night when the emergency call went out from Stephanie's house. As soon as he opened his door he heard the police sirens. At the exact same time his guys called in from across the street. They saw Ramirez running from the scene. They were about to pursue him when two patrol cars arrived, one loaded Ramirez inside and left the neighborhood. The other responded to Steph's home.

Ranger ordered his team to follow Ramirez. He doubted those cops were hauling him down to the station. He crossed the street and watched from the shadows as Eddie Gazzara arrived. With Gazzara inside Ranger wasn't quite as worried about Stephanie's safety, but he wasn't about to assume the other cops wouldn't shut Gazzara up if they had orders to do so. He needed to get inside to cover them both.

He climbed one of the trees to gain access to the first floor roof of her sunroom. From there he climbed up onto the second story roof and followed it around to her bedroom. He dropped down onto the tiny balcony that attached to the French doors in her bedroom, picked the lock, and let himself into her house. He pulled and checked his gun before slipping into the upstairs hallway.

He could hear the voices in the living room below.

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Steph wasn't sure how much time passed, but Eddie was suddenly kneeling in front of her. "Steph, give me the knife. The guy is gone," he said cautiously. She looked up at him, as understanding finally settled in. She was safe. "We got a couple guys checking the neighborhood, Carl and Big Dog secured the house, but they didn't see anyone."

She nodded and put the knife on the floor. "It was Benito Ramirez," she told him.

He lifted her to her feet and walked her into the living room, where he settled her onto the couch, wrapped her in a blanket, and sat down next to her. "Benito Ramirez?"

She nodded her head. "I went to see him last week, to ask him if he knew where I could look for Morelli. He tried to rape me."

Eddie's face filled with a rage she'd never seen before. It was kind of scary. "Why didn't you report this?" he practically yelled.

"I didn't want to disappear like the other girls," she yelled back. "Plus, I was fine. Someone shot out the windows of the gym and I got away."

Understanding showed in his eyes. Then he gave her a hard look. "You need to be careful who you're making friends with."

"It's not my new friends that are causing problems. This is all because of Morelli," she said, ready to defend Ranger and his friends if need be. They had saved her and covered for her, that was more than Morelli ever did.

"Did you see Morelli?"

She shook her head. "He called, said he's leaving town."

Eddie rubbed his palm over his face. "Geez, Steph, this is a mess." She already knew that. "You can't stay here alone tonight."

"It's almost midnight, where am I going to stay?" Eddie didn't seem to have a good answer to that, so he just shrugged. "Ramirez won't be back tonight," she said sadly. He'd be back another night. She knew it. He promised it.

Carl and Big Dog came in and took the chairs opposite the couch. "Thank you," she told them.

"She says it was Benito Ramirez," Eddie told them.

They exchanged a look that Stephanie wondered about. She watched them closely and realized they weren't surprised to hear that like Eddie had been. "I'll call it in," Big Dog nodded. "He has to be in the area."

"Doubtful," Eddie disagreed, but excused the other cop to make his call.

"The perp left a message on your kitchen window," Carl interrupted. "He, uh, finger painted the words _I'll be back Stephanie Plum,_ in semen."

Semen? "Excuse me?"

Carl nodded, "It looks like he used his ejaculate on the window."

"Eww, gross," she grumbled at them. "Why me? What the hell did I do to end up in this mess? I was only being a good girlfriend. All I did was bail Joe out. Now he dumped me and I'm going to lose the house and The Champ wants to violate me. And…I can't. I just can't," she said as the rest of the story went unsaid, but still managed to fill her mind. She started to shake violently, but she'd be damned if she'd cry again.

"Awe, shit, Steph," Eddie mumbled. "Just breathe. Deep breaths." He pulled her into an awkward hug and held her there. "I'll call Shirley. I'll stay here tonight and we'll call a security company tomorrow. A good one. We'll get you set up with alarms and cameras and whatever else they suggest, okay? Ramirez won't touch you," he promised and in that moment she wanted to believe him so badly.

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The police had finally finished writing up their reports, collecting DNA evidence off her window, and whatever else they were doing out there. Eddie had spoken to her cousin Shirley and was now spending the night on her couch, just in case. He still swore tomorrow would be better, after they got her some home security. She wasn't sure she believed him, but it was nice that she didn't have to be here alone tonight.

She climbed the stairs to her room, ready to lock the door and close out the world. She managed not to fall apart in front of her police audience, but she wasn't sure she could hold it together once she was alone. She felt safe here, in her room, to be as weak as she wanted to be. She'd be tough again tomorrow, but she was just too tired to fight anymore tonight.

She walked into her room and closed the door. She didn't bother to turn on the light, but perhaps she should have. She only took two steps before someone moved behind her and covered her mouth with a large hand. She screamed, but it was muffled and ineffective. Eddie'd never hear her.

"Babe," he whispered. Her body relaxed almost immediately. Ranger. "I'm sorry I scared you. I didn't want Gazzara to hear me up here." He took his hand away and spun her in his arms.

"Stop doing that to me," she grumbled, as she put her hand on her racing heart.

"I'm sorry. I just needed to see that you were alright."

Crap. How could she be mad about that? "I'm alright."

"What happened?" he asked as he rubbed his hands up and down her bare arms in a comforting motion.

Mm, it felt so nice. And he was so close and looked even better than she remembered. He wasn't wearing the gang clothing, but a stretchy, black tee shirt that clung to his torso and black cargo pants that probably carried more weapons than she could name. He was so big and strong, and safe. Her body reacted before her mind could catch up. She closed the distance and wrapped her arms around him. This time he pulled her close and folded her in those long arms of his. God, he felt so perfect she just wanted to purr. This was what she needed. She didn't need to be strong with him. He was strong enough for them both. So she just closed her eyes and let him hold her, since he didn't seem to mind.

"Ramirez was here," she finally answered.

"I heard the 911." His hand covered hers, pressing it flat against his hard chest. The same chest she'd intimately explored only hours ago. Her mouth watered as she remembered every inch of sexy, dark skin hidden by that shirt. She swallowed hard as he twined his fingers with hers and nuzzled her hair. "He didn't get inside?" he asked. She shook her head no as she tried to focus on his words, instead of what he was doing to her body.

"No, I think he just tried to scare me." She pushed away and stepped back, just one step. She really couldn't think when he was touching her, but, boy, did she instantly regret retreating. "I'm fine." He looked her up and down, and didn't look happy with what he saw.

"Were you walking around in that?" he asked, pointing at her panties and tank top, which had been revealed when she dropped the blanket Eddie had wrapped her in earlier.

"I live alone," she defended herself. "Don't you walk around in your underwear?"

He only smirked back at her, then he reached over and flipped the lock on her bedroom door.

"What're you doing?" she asked breathlessly. Why was she thinking of him stripping down to his underwear?

"I'm staying."

Oh, that didn't help her dirty thoughts at all. She swallowed hard as she looked from him to her queen sized bed. He was so big, he'd probably fill it. She be pressed right up against him…in his underwear. Oh boy. "Staying?"

He pulled her back against his chest. His arm was around her waist, his fingers splayed on the bare skin of her stomach as he anchored her to his body. She almost forgot to breath. Then, as if that wasn't enough to overload her, he ran his other hand through her hair, before settling it at the nape of her neck. She looked up into his face. He was a good four inches taller than her when she was barefoot. It made it feel small, like he was towering over her. They could easily overcome that though. If she just lifted up on her toes and he just lowered his head. Her eyes fluttered shut as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He did lower his head, but his lips touched her forehead, then her nose, but not her lips. "I'll sit in the chair, just in case Ramirez makes a return trip."

She wanted to slap herself upside the head. She did it again! She misread his interest in her. It was obvious he cared about her, or at least had taken his role as hero seriously, but he just wasn't interested in her as a woman. She supposed that was probably for the best. She was emotional tonight. There was no doubt she'd regret anything that happened between them. She'd only been trying to find some comfort anyway. That was a dumb reason to be with him. Still, it was another bruise to her broken ego and she didn't like it. "You don't have to do that," she sighed. "Eddie's spending the night downstairs."

"I'm staying."

She could tell by the tone of his voice that he meant business, he wouldn't take no for an answer. And frankly she didn't want to argue. She knew she'd feel safer if he stayed here, in the chair. She pushed away from him, again, and he let her go too easily, in her opinion. "Fine." She turned and stomped off to her bathroom, to get ready for bed.

She brushed her teeth and stared at her reflection. Her hair was a little messed up and her make-up was washed off, but she didn't look horrible. She supposed average wasn't good enough for Mr. Tall Dark and Sexy. He probably had a harem of beautiful women he indulged in whenever he wasn't out saving the world. He was probably no more than amused that she was practically throwing herself at him whenever they were together. She was a moron. She wouldn't do it again. He wanted to play hero, she'd let him, but the attraction was over, starting now. This would be a business arrangement.

She rinsed her mouth and shut off the water before going back into the bedroom. He was already seated in the corner chair, where she remembered him sitting the night she was sick. When he saw her, he stood and watched her walk to her bed. His eyes seemed to be glued to her backside and he didn't seem at all amused. So maybe he wasn't completely unaffected by her after all? It was hard to tell. He guarded his emotions, as well as his facial features, too well. She decided to test her theory a little.

She bent over the bed and started sorting out her messed up blankets, all the while aiming her barely clad booty toward the corner he was still standing in. He was definitely watching, so she crawled onto the bed, making his view a little better. "I tried to sleep earlier, but I was just tossing and turning too much to settle down. I got the sheets all tangled up," she said looking back over her shoulder from her position on her hands and knees.

He licked his lips and nodded. "Tangled sheets are the worst." His voice sounded a little rougher than normal and his eyes looked a little darker as he stared at her. She smiled to herself as she turned away from him. He definitely wasn't uninterested right now.

She continued to crawl across the bed, wiggly her hips as gracefully as she could. Then she grabbed the corner of the fitted sheet and began to tug it, rhythmically, letting her body rock back and forth. "Uh, mm, oh," she moaned and growled. "I hate when the corners come loose."

Suddenly she was lifted into the air and set on her feet next to the bed. Her blankets were tossed to the ground, her fitted sheet was re-tucked around each corner of the mattress, her flat sheet was spread out and tucked with perfect military corners, and then her blankets followed. He even fluffed her pillows before pulling the blankets back enough for him to pick her up, drop her into the bed, and cover her up.

"Wow, you're good at this," she smiled at him. The she stretched her arms over her head and wiggled back and forth, giving him a good view of the nipples that showed through her tank top. "This is the most comfortable my bed has ever felt." He pulled the blankets up under her chin, then strode back to his chair in the corner without a word.

Her ego recovered as soon as she realized he was having a hard time fighting his attraction to her. It was only a small victory though. She felt bad that she'd flaunted herself at him so shamelessly when he was just trying to be a gentleman. She wasn't even sure how to deal with that. She wasn't sure she'd ever met a real gentleman before. She needed to treat him with the same curtesy she supposed. "Did you learned that in the army?" she said pointing to the corners.

"Most important thing they taught us," he answered in a low growl.

She laughed at what she assumed was a Ranger-style joke and he seemed to relax a little bit. "Are you going to stay way over there? It's weird talking to you from that far away."

"Are you staying under the covers?" he asked, giving her a knowing look.

"Of course, I'm too comfortable to go anywhere," she grinned back at him.

He lifted the chair and carried it to the side of her bed, between her and the door. "What did Ramirez say to you?"

Business it was. "He said some disgusting things while he jerked off on my window," she answered.

He tilted his head and regarded her as he thought about that. "You weren't crawling around your kitchen with your ass in the air, were you?"

"No!"

He smirked back at her, then shrugged. "I wasn't going to fault the guy if you had been." She didn't know what to say to that. She supposed she deserved it. She had been playing the hussy. "Did he threaten you?"

She really didn't want to talk about Ramirez. He gave her the creeps even when he wasn't here. Even now his voice was still in her head, though she tried to bury the memories away. "He said he'd be back and that he was going to fuck me until I couldn't walk."

Ranger's eyes darkened again, but not in the same way they had earlier. There was now a dangerous glint to the black that had been missing before. "I tried to follow him, but the cops helped him get out of here."

She sat up and looked at him. "The cops? Which cops?"

"Costanza and Big Dog saw it and didn't stop him, but he left in a car with Brian Simon and Steve Olmney. You know them?"

She flopped back onto the pillows and rubbed her hands over her face. "They're Joe's friends. I went to school with both Costanza and Olmney. I thought they were my friends too. God. I dog-sat for Brian Simon a few months ago." She shook her head and looked back at Ranger. "Are you sure they weren't arresting him?"

"They delivered him to his manager's house. A guy named Jimmy Alpha, you know him?" She shook her head no. "He's the only person that can control Ramirez, if he wants to."

"So he could stop him from coming back here? Maybe we should talk to him," she said getting excited by the possibility.

"I assume Alpha is the reason Ramirez hasn't bothered you since the day at the gym. He's had him on a tight leash since that day. He wasn't happy about his windows being blown out and the cops coming in there," Ranger told her.

Stephanie thought about that for a minute. "So why tonight?"

"It was a warning. They want you to know they can get to you," he told her.

She sat back up. "Why?"

"Because Alpha wants something that Morelli has and they're planning to use you to get it."

Her mind started to fill in some of the blanks. This was how Morelli and Ramirez were tied together, over something illegal Ramirez's boss was doing? She thought of those photos. Were those Alpha's guys? But what the hell were they trading in those boxes, and with who? "Morelli called me tonight. He warned me that someone was going to come after me. He wanted me to leave town," she admitted.

He leaned back in the chair, then took her hand and held it in his. "You leaving?"

"No."

"How're you planning to protect yourself?"

"Eddie is going to help me get a security system installed tomorrow and I thought about getting a gun," she told him.

He lifted an eyebrow at her. "You ever fire a gun?"

"No."

"You need to train with it before you bring it home. I don't want you to shoot yourself."

"Ha ha," she said rolling her eyes at him. "It can't be that hard. Everyone has a gun. Even you."

"I trained with mine," he told her.

"Army?"

He smiled and squeezed her hand. "Learned to shoot right after I learned to make my bed."

She wasn't quite sure if that was a joke. "So where do I learn to shoot?"

"Firing range," he said. "Gazzara could take you."

She nodded and relaxed back against the pillows again. "What is Alpha involved in? Something bad, right?"

"I'm still looking into it, but it looks pretty bad," he agreed. They sat there silently, watching one another for a long time. She didn't like that he was involved with whatever this dangerous man was doing. And honestly, he didn't look too happy to be talking to her about it.

"If they put in alarms tomorrow you won't be able to break into my bedroom anymore," she joked to break the tension.

"You underestimate me."

She laughed. "Mere alarms don't stop you?" He just lifted that eyebrow at her. She figured he wasn't joking about that either. "Will they stop Ramirez?"

"Ramirez doesn't have my special skills."

Her laughter died on her lips as she began to warm all over. She was wondering what his special skills all encompassed. "You learn those skills in the army too?"

His lips twitched like he was thinking about laughing, but he remained sober. "I may have picked up breaking and entering before the army, they just honed my skills."

She rolled to her side, facing him. "Are you a felon?"

"Would have been if I'd been charged as an adult," he said with a hard look. "I turned eighteen and my record was wiped clean."

"Is it still clean?"

This time he did smile. "Of course."

"So honing your skills just means learning not to get caught?" she teased.

"Absolutely," he agreed.

She smiled back at him. "Were you watching my house? Is that how you got here so quickly?"

"I was coming to see you just when the cops got here." He leaned down and brought his face closer to hers. "I told you I'd let you know when I found something."

She looked back at him, surprised to hear what sounded like the truth in his words. "I didn't think you would."

"I didn't think I would either," he responded honestly. "I learned that Morelli was given three days to turn over what he had or Alpha would come after you. His three days are up."

She stared into his eyes. He really wasn't lying. "Shit."

"Exactly."

"What do I do?" she whispered to him.

"Trust me."

She licked her lips and nodded back. "I'm trying."

His lips tipped up into a tiny smile as his fingers trailed over her cheek to her chin. "Good," he whispered back then pressed his lips to hers. It was only a small chaste kiss, but it may have been the best kiss she'd ever received, because she knew he meant it to show he cared, not to seduce her. "Go to sleep. We'll talk tomorrow."

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. She had no idea how to handle this man. As she watched him she wondered if he knew how to handle her any better. Maybe that was something else they could figure out tomorrow. "Good night, Ranger."

"Good night, Stephanie."


	10. Chapter 10

_**** Sorry this update took so long. I just kept writing, and writing. I stopped to go back to proofread and edit some of it and realized it was well over 17000 words. Holy poop. Well, anyway, it was a nightmare to proofread so I split it into three chapters. I'll try to get the next one sorted through and posted within the next couple days. **_

_**As always thanks so much for the fantastic reviews and encouragement. You're all wonderful. This chapter introduces us to our RangeMen a little bit…and Carlos Manoso. Let me know what you think about what he did. Thanks. ****_

Chapter 10

It was nearly dawn. The sky was just starting to turn a light shade of gray, chasing away the night. Ranger leaned back in the chair. He knew it was time to go, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from Stephanie's still, sleeping form.

She was on her stomach, her wild curls spread out behind her on the pillow. Her face was turned toward him. Her lips lightly parted, emitting only the soft sound of air being exhaled in a hypnotic rhythm. He was fascinated. He had no explanation for it. He only knew he couldn't resist her magnetic pull.

He wanted to resist, he really did. Rationally, he knew he had better things to do with his time than sit and watch her sleep, but for some reason those things didn't hold the same appeal. Nothing did. She was encompassing all his thoughts, all the time. He couldn't deny his…attraction.

He could no longer say she was just part of his case either. She wasn't just a way to find Morelli or whatever information he'd hidden with her. He felt a connection to her, one that he'd been fighting from the first moment he saw her. He was done fighting it now. He was done denying it. He had nothing left to fight her off with. She destroyed all his arguments against her.

He had watched her for days. There were no suspicious visitors. There were no damning phone calls. She seemed to only visit her family and the people he gleaned were her friends. She made him promises, and kept them. She kept his secrets and shared her own. There was no reason he could find to distrust her. Which was crazy. She was a virtual stranger.

He didn't know her, at least not any more than could be learned from a probing background check. Even that hadn't shed much light onto her. She was just a normal, law abiding female that made one hell of an advantageous divorce from that dickwad, State Senator Orr, before getting tangled up in Morelli's web of lies. He couldn't condemn her for her poor choice in men, but that was all he really knew about her. He should've stayed away. He should run, not walk, now. But, here he sat, ready to defend her with everything he had.

Why? Why was he willing to risk so much for her? Why was she the one person to make him feel like a human again? Why now? He scrubbed his hands over his face. He wished he could answer those questions, but just like the woman herself, the attraction was a mystery to him.

All he knew was when she tumbled into his arms last night, needing him to comfort her, he felt something shift inside himself. Something he's never felt before. He wasn't sure what it was, but it caused a deep ache within him that was only quieted when he touched her. It wasn't the sexual gratification he needed from other women. This was different, deeper, more. He was scared of the depth of those feelings.

That fear wanted him to push her away, but he'd never been so relieved just to have someone safely tucked into his arms before. He never wanted to protect anyone that way before. He never wanted to comfort someone that way before. He never wanted to stay with someone the way he wanted to with her. It was crazy. The feelings she provoked in him were crazy. He didn't understand it at all.

God, when that 911 call went out last night he felt like his heart had stopped. He thought of her being attacked and he was filled with so much rage, and terror. He almost panicked. He never panicked. He never felt, anything. He had been trained not to have feelings, to stay detached, to not have the surge of adrenaline that was pouring through him when he thought she had been hurt. He was the best of the best the military had to offer. Nothing affected him that way. Ever. Until that moment. He was overwhelmed by whatever damn feelings were filling him.

It wasn't until he heard her voice downstairs that he calmed down. The tremor in her soft, lilting voice made him ache to run down the stairs and hold her. Or maybe kiss her senseless, just for scaring him so badly. He resisted then, and he resisted later when she turned her face up to him like she needed the same thing he wanted for himself. He couldn't give it of course. If what he was feeling now was any indication, he knew adding a sexual relationship to the mess would only intense his madness. He wouldn't give in, no matter how hard she tried to sway him. God, was it hard.

Just the thought of her crawling across that bed had his dick throbbing and raging inside his pants again. Damn it. What was wrong with him? He'd never been one to get sucked in by a woman's seductions. No, he chose his partners in the same cool, detached manner that he did everything else. It was never up to the woman. If he chose one, they agreed. He didn't think anything about them. They were only used as a device for his needs to be quenched, and theirs of course. He never left a woman wanting in that department.

But, this…thing, with Stephanie was altogether different. He could see all the reasons it was a bad idea, but none of them deterred him. He couldn't stop thinking about her. He couldn't stop wanting her. Maybe he was sick, that'd explain his behavior. And his thoughts. They were all filled with her. The way her body fitted against his. The way her wild, curly hair smelled of something exotic, like flowers and fruit mixed together. The feel of her soft skin under his fingers. The sound of her voice upon his ears. The way her beautiful blue eyes lit with fire when she got angry at him. He never spent so much time thinking about a woman before. He was becoming obsessed. It couldn't be healthy and it made no sense.

Why in the world couldn't he be happy with what Jeanne could give him? At least she understood he wasn't capable of feeling anything for her. She knew he never cared for a woman and never would. She knew he didn't have the emotional capability to be in relationship. At least he never had before. Now he wondered. Could he care for Stephanie Plum if she allowed him to try?

God. He really was losing his mind. He had no idea how he could contemplate wanting a relationship with a woman he didn't know. He'd been avoiding relationships his entire adult life and he liked it that way. There was no hassle or mess. Relationships were messy. And not worth it. He figured that out a long time ago, when his ex-wife trapped him.

He thought about the kiss he'd given Steph last night. It was just the barest of kisses. The type that wasn't meant to seduce, but to tell her without words how much he felt in that moment. It was the type he'd never given anyone before. It was the type he wanted to give her again, and again.

Jeanne's words echoed through his mind as he looked down at Stephanie. He didn't want to fuck her or anyone else. He wanted to take her in his arms and rain thousands of those little kisses all over her body. Shit. Could he be falling in love with her? With Morelli's girlfriend? He wanted to slap himself.

He stood and lifted the chair, silently putting it back in the corner. He looked back at the bed before leaving the same way he came in. It must have been God's punishment, or some sort of cruel joke, to finally send him a woman he had human feeling for, only to find that she was in love with the one man he couldn't forgive.

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Stephanie was just finishing her lunch, when she heard someone outside. She peeked out her window and watched three men step out of the huge black Explorer. They must have been from her new security company, at least she hoped that's who they were.

As they turned she saw they were wearing matching black cargo pants and black tee shirts with the company name printed across the chest. She could tell one of them was armed from here, but she imagined they all were. Honestly they looked like they'd be better at taking on terrorists than installing alarm systems, but then, what did she know? Eddie promised that these guys were the best. So maybe they looked a little scary, but then again scary was probably what she needed right now.

She watched the way they moved, graceful and menacing all at once. They were powerful and sleek and looked ready to strike anything that got in their way, kind of like big jungle cats. She shivered a little, and not in a bad way. For some reason they reminded her of Ranger, but then again, she hadn't been able to get him off her mind since she woke this morning.

Eddie had knocked on her bedroom door this morning, waking her with some coffee and doughnuts that Shirley dropped off on her way to work. Steph's eyes immediately went to the chair. It was back in the corner of the room, and completely empty. She looked around, in the closet, her bathroom, even on the balcony, but he was gone without a trace. She wished he wasn't.

As she struggled for sleep last night all she could think about were his words, _Trust me_. She wanted to, more than anything. She almost told him about the photos last night, but the part of her that was completely shattered by Joe's betrayal kept her mouth shut. She was hurt by Joe lying to her and using her for whatever game he was playing, but she knew it'd hurt so much worse if Ranger did the same. She wanted just a little more time with him. Time to see who he was or maybe time to believe in something good again. She didn't want to lose that…or him.

Upon waking, though, her mind was made up. She decided to take the leap of faith and trust him. He was already risking his life to keep her safe. Everything he's told her had been true, as far as she could tell. He was a good guy, she could feel that to her bones. And she needed guidance. She was going to give him the envelope. But he was gone, without a note or a number to reach him at. She was back where she started yesterday, sort of. The difference was, today, she knew he'd be back. He would be out there somewhere, watching her. She'd just have to wait for him to make another visit.

The doorbell rang, so she scooted away from the front window to answer it. When she opened the door she was staring up at two of the men. One was seriously six and a half feet tall and packed with more muscles than she'd ever seen. Yeesh, his neck was bigger around than her thigh. "Ma'am," he nodded with a greeting.

"Stephanie," she corrected. "You're from RangeMan Security?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he answered. "They call me Tank and this is my associate Lester Santos."

Tank was an apt name for him, he rivaled the size of an actual tank. And his companion, dang. She couldn't help smiling at him. He was more in the six foot range with caramel skin, short spiked hair, and dazzling green eyes. "Please, come in," she invited. "Would you like to sit down or have a cup of coffee or something?"

"That won't be necessary," Tank answered, getting straight to business. "We will need to take a look at the layout of your home and check all entry points and locks."

She nodded, that made sense. "Okay, explore away."

Tank nodded and walked off into the house leaving her with his partner. "Gazzara said you had a run in with Benito Ramirez?" Lester asked.

She nodded. "He showed up here last night and jerked off while he watched me through that window," she said pointing into the kitchen.

"Whoa," Lester said with a disgusted look on his face. He walked over to the window and looked at the message that was still visible there. "Is that…"

"Yeah, the cops told me he finger painted with his jizz. Lovely, isn't it?"

He cracked a smile. "Interesting way to get a woman's attention." She snorted and poured herself a cup of coffee. "What did you do when you saw him out there?"

"I called the police, grabbed a knife, and hid in the corner here," she said pointing to the edge of the counter.

"The landline?" he asked nodding toward the cordless phone.

"Yep, I left my cell in the bedroom."

"I'm thinking some panic buttons in the rooms you use the most would be good. Then you wouldn't have to worry about him cutting off your landline," he said as he wrote something in his notebook.

"What do panic buttons do? Call the police?"

He smiled again. "No, our personal control center. We have all systems monitored twenty-four hours a day and we have crews out on the streets for quick responses. We're never more than a few minutes away from any location in Trenton."

She lifted her eyebrows at that. "Should I still call emergency services if I push the button?"

He leaned over the counter, bringing himself to her eye level. "I can't tell you not to, but I will say there are certain situations the police need to handle and then there are situations you need experts to handle. We're the experts here."

She was certainly drawn to his flirtatious, arrogance. What woman wouldn't be? But she had enough experience with his type to fall into the trap. So she leaned toward him and smiled back. "Are you telling me you're better than the police?"

"I'm telling you that you can _trust _us to handle your intruder properly," he said smiling back.

She startled at his words and stood back upright. His words sounded exactly like something Ranger would say to her. If what Ranger said was true, the police helped Ramirez last night, she really couldn't call them, but could she trust these security men any more than the police? "How do I know I can trust you to handle him properly?" she questioned.

"We work under a code of honor and ethics. Our code does not include allowing a man to pay us to look the other way while he violates and harms women," he answered in a cold voice that seeped into those playful green eyes making them empty of all emotion. It was chilling, and she fully believed what he said.

Yet she couldn't help wondering how they would handle Ramirez if they couldn't take him to jail here in Trenton? Did it matter as long as he wasn't stalking her or killing other women? Was it wrong that the thought of him being taken care of properly brought her comfort? She decided that it wasn't wrong, as long as she didn't have to know how they actually took care of him. "Okay," she nodded, refusing to overthink what she was agreeing to.

He relaxed a little, allowing his face to unfreeze. "Any questions about this?" he asked.

"How much is this going to cost me? I'll be honest, I'm on a tight budget," she warned, even though she stretched the truth, a lot. She was on a budget of nearly nothing. Plus, she didn't think it'd pay to spend a fortune on a house she was going to lose in a few weeks. But, she wasn't dumb enough to stay here without some sort of protection either.

"Don't worry about money right now. The important thing is getting you secured. We can work out a payment plan or deal if we need to," he assured her.

The funny thing was, just having them there did make her feel more secure. Lester Santos was really good at putting her mind at ease. The perfect salesman. His boss must have been a genius to send him to speak to her. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me. It's my job," he said with a grin and a pat to her shoulder. "Now, let's talk alarms."

She followed him from room to room as he explained how he wanted to change the locks on all the doors and windows, plus hook all of them to the main alarm system so she'd know if anyone was tampering with one of them. Then Tank joined them and told her that he also wanted to place cameras inside the house at each door.

She wasn't sure about that. "Will the cameras be able to see, stuff?"

"Only at the doors," he answered. "Your privacy will be fine as long as you don't dance naked in the doorways."

Her face flushed bright red. "I don't do that."

Lester laughed, "That's too bad." That earned a scowl from Tank.

"I already had my guy install the exterior cameras and some motion sensors. Would you mind if I had him start the interior install right away, since he's already here?" Tank asked.

"I still don't know if I can afford all this," she told him. "Do you have an estimate or anything?"

Tank smiled, "Our consultation is free. The installation will run you three hundred bucks and it's another two hundred for the equipment security deposit. There's a normal monthly service fee and a monthly equipment rental charge on top of that, but the boss wanted to offer both to you free for a month."

Her mouth dropped open in shock. Five hundred was exactly what she'd been willing to spend, not a penny more. She couldn't believe these guys would offer her that kind of deal. "Why would he do that?"

Tank looked at her and his lips turned up into a little smile. "He doesn't like Ramirez."

"Oh," she answered, surprised at the truth she heard in that answer.

Lester patted her back. "Think of it this way, if we catch Ramirez in the next month you won't need all this equipment and we can remove it before you're charged. If not, you have a month to try us out and see if we make you feel safer."

Lester made a lot of sense, especially since in a month she wouldn't be the owner of this house anymore. "Okay, you have a deal," she told them.

"That's great," Lester smiled. "Now, Beautiful, do you have a better weapon than a kitchen knife?"

Her eyes widened again. "No."

"You should get yourself some sort of protection. A handgun, pepper spray, even a taser will work in a pinch," Tank told her. "A woman can't be too careful now days." Tank pulled out a card with a gun shop name and number listed on it. "Listen, go see Sunny. Tell her I sent you and she'll set you up with what you need."

"Okay," she whispered taking the card.

"Have your buddy Gazzara take you to the range to practice if you decide on a gun. We can't have you accidently shooting yourself," Lester teased her.

"And take this," Tank said giving her another business card. It was black with white lettering, RangeMan Security, LLC. CEO Carlos Manoso. "That's the boss's cell phone number. He wants you to call him directly if anything feels off or out of the ordinary. We'll get a crew to you right away."

She was, again, completely stunned by that. "I don't even know him, why would he do all this?"

Tank lifted his eyebrow at her and she was, again, left thinking of Ranger doing the same thing. "I told you, he don't like Ramirez."

She shook her head and forced herself to smile at them. "Okay, well, tell Mr. Manoso that I appreciate all he's done for me."

Tank smiled widely, apparently appreciating that she was thankful for his boss's help. "Mr. Manoso asked me to send his regrets. He'd have liked to take care of you himself, but was not available this afternoon. I have no doubt he will contact you soon. You can thank him yourself then," Tank promised.

"I will. So, how long will it take your associate to install everything?"

"We'll give him a hand, then we should be out of here in a couple hours," Tank said. "Just pretend we're not here."

"Thank you, Mr. Tank," she told him.

They got started on the install, so she turned on the TV and plopped onto the couch. She looked down at the cards in her hand and smiled. It seemed she found another ally in this Carlos Manoso. If he really did hate Ramirez as much as she did, perhaps he'd be able to actually stop him.

She rubbed her finger over the raised print of his name and suddenly felt a little hope fill her. She had a feeling hiring him would be the best thing she'd ever done.

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Ranger was sitting behind his desk. Even after managing to get some sleep he still felt off. His mind kept going back to his earlier observations, about his _feelings_. He'd been one step away from freaking out when he got back to the office. He should have known better than to make any decisions when his head was still spinning, but he had. And now he was questioning what he'd done.

He heard Tank and Lester's voices from the hall and waited patiently for them to appear. Instead he heard them arguing, apparently unaware that he was in the building.

"He's going to be pissed," Lester warned Tank.

"I doubt it," Tank muttered back. "You saw him this morning."

"And I saw her," Lester laughed. "And fuck Manoso for seeing her first."

"Keep your mouth shut and stop hitting on her, you idiot."

Ranger frowned. Some days he hated his friends. "Report!" he shouted, bringing them both into the office.

They took the chairs facing his desk. Tank sitting at attention, waiting to report like asked. Santos was leaning back in his chair, hands in pockets, with a smile gracing his smug face. He didn't wait to speak. "Met your girl," he said with an eyebrow waggle. "Damn, Bro."

"She's not…" he started to say, not my girl, but changed his mind. Making her fair game to Santos was not in the plans. "A girl."

Santos smiled, "Your woman then. Manoso's woman, I like it."

Ranger growled at him as he leaned forward in his chair. "You will not call her that. You understand the danger that would put her in."

"I understand that it would put her off limits with the likes of Stark Street," Santos argued.

Ranger knew that much was true. Declaring her his woman would give her a certain amount of protection from gangs and thugs, but not from the ones that were currently after her. Not to mention his military enemies. They'd use her against him without a second thought. He couldn't have that. That's why he couldn't have her. "No."

"She took the deal you offered," Tank finally said. "We installed all the equipment you ordered."

Ranger nodded to his best friend. "Any problems?"

"No," Tank answered with a head shake. "She seemed very thankful to _Mr. Manoso._ She wanted to personally thank him."

Ranger lifted an eyebrow at him, knowing there was more to the story than that. "And?"

"And I gave her your card. So she could do it…personally," Tank answered.

Ranger's eyes closed as he counted to ten to get himself under control. "My RangeMan card?"

Tank nodded his affirmative. "I told her to call you directly if she had any problems or if anything felt off. I figured you'd want to know first."

He clenched his fist. He did want to know first, damn it. "She will recognize my voice."

"Do your Miami accent," Tank answered easily.

"Just tell her the truth," Santos added. "You'll have to tell her at some point."

And that's what he'd be speculating about since he woke. Should he have told her who he really was? Should he have told her that RangeMan was his company? Should he have told her that the cameras in her home were his to watch? The men outside her home, his to order about? The panic buttons attached to his office, car, and phone? That he could come and go from her home freely, having the codes to her alarms at his disposal?

Of course he couldn't tell her any of that, because she'd never allow it. She'd expose herself and he wouldn't be able to take care of her. He had to deceive her to save her. If she found out she'd never forgive him, but at least she'd be alive. It was the only decision he could make, so why did he feel so sick about what he did?

"I will if I need to, but for now she doesn't need to know anything."

Tank gave a short nod of agreement. "I installed the extra cameras you asked for."

And that was what he was regretting. He decided to put cameras in her bedroom, upper hall, and kitchen. He wanted to be able to see if someone entered the home. Those spots seemed to be the weakest spots in the home, away from the road, on a dark part of the lot, and with large windows and doors that the glass could easily be broken on.

He pulled up the app on his phone and tapped in the code for her security system, then entered his passcode. No one else could access these cameras, just him. He alone could watch her. He flipped through the cameras, but she wasn't in any of the rooms. He closed the app and opened her tracking device. He saw her location and frowned. She was at a car dealership.

"Damn it," he muttered to himself. "Have the crew secure her new vehicle as soon as she parks it."

Santos smiled at him. "Sure thing, Boss."

"Dismissed," he barked. He didn't need anyone to witness his shame, or his guilt. He only hoped she never found out that he was fucking stalking her.


	11. Chapter 11

_****Thank you for all the reviews. I really appreciate them. Glad you're all still enjoying this story. I was able to finish proofreading earlier today and was going to edit some of it out as I felt like it was a bit rehashy. Then I figure I'd just go with what I had. You all don't seem to mind the extra words and it isn't like this needs to be under a certain word count like a real book ;-) I can let them converse as much as I want, right? **_

_**Anyway, this chapter doesn't complete the day, there will be another chapter continuation of what's happening at Steph's home and we'll find out what's going on in Ranger's head (you'll see he's a bit off here). I'll try to get the next one up by the end of the week. It needs some more writing before I can begin to proofread it. **_

_**Hope you enjoy. ****_

Chapter 11

While Stephanie was waiting for her security guys to finish up she made a plan. She needed to live her life, not hide in Fort Plum, which was what her home now felt like. It was filled with panic buttons and cameras, the locks were switched out, everything was alarmed, and she was given video monitors so she could check the door from her living room or bedroom before answering the bell. It was kind of creepy and she wasn't sure why. She just knew she didn't want to sit there all locked up in her tower.

She decided the first step in gaining back her life was to get mobilized. So she called her dad and talked him into taking her used car shopping. He wasn't excited about her choice, but at least it was a Chevy. He had no use for foreign vehicles, so a junker was better than another Mazda as far as he concerned. Within an hour she was happily driving away.

She pulled her new-to-her Nova into the lot of Sunny's Gun Shop just after six. Eddie's SUV was already parked on the side of the building so she parked next to him and sighed as her car shook and moaned itself off.

"Whoa," Eddie said looking at it.

"What?" she glared, daring him to make a smart-ass comment. She knew it wasn't a nice car. Okay, it was a total piece of crap, but she managed to get it for five hundred bucks, including license and registration. She figured she couldn't be real choosy right now, and it was the right price.

"Just be careful. It looks like a pothole could take off your back fender," he said pointing to a rust hole that was spider-webbing its way across the whole panel.

"Ugh," she grumbled as she mentally added duct tape to her shopping list. That should hold it together for a little while.

"So what did you think of the security guys?" Eddie asked as he nodded toward the shop.

She shrugged and smiled. "They were really good. They got everything set up this afternoon and made me a deal I couldn't refuse."

"Tough SOBs too," Eddie told her. "I figured they'd like the idea of taking out Ramirez."

Steph lifted an eyebrow at him. The way he said that didn't sound like they wanted to take him out for a beer. She wondered if Eddie knew how much the CEO disliked Ramirez. "Take him out?"

Eddie just winked. "Out of the game. Off the street. That's all."

"Uh huh," she agreed, but didn't really buy it. She suddenly thought of Tank and Lester, and the guns they carried, and the authority they spoke and moved with. She thought they seemed like the type of men that wouldn't hesitate to take someone out if it was part of their job. Not that she thought they looked like murderers or anything. No, they looked more like soldiers or bodyguards, like they were ready for anything. She highly doubted they'd be out hunting Ramirez like vigilantes…unless they were ordered to do so.

Then she thought of the black business card in her pocket. Maybe Mr. Manoso was the secret vigilante, and his team did as he said. Maybe he even had guys watching Ramirez, kind of like she thought Ranger watched her. That was possible. And maybe Mr. Manoso was just as handsome as Ranger too. Wouldn't that be something?

She rolled her eyes at herself. Was she really romanticizing two total strangers just because they were helping to keep her safe? Unbelievable. Like having one mysterious, sexy man out there, secretly watching and waiting to rescue her wasn't enough? Lordy. She really did have problems. Ranger was more than enough for her to handle without thinking about this mysterious Mr. Manoso too.

She'd just put Mr. Manoso out of her mind. She certainly wasn't going to call him. That was just begging for more problems. She already had one man she couldn't stop thinking about, she didn't need to speculate about another. Besides, she didn't even know this man. When she allowed her mind to conjure him up, he looked a lot like Ranger. If that didn't mean she was sick in the head as far as men were concerned, she didn't know what did.

She only wished she had Ranger's phone number. Then she wouldn't keep thinking about how she could call Mr. Manoso, but not him. She didn't like that. Then again, Ranger didn't seem to need a phone call. He was just there when she needed him. How did he do that anyway?

"You looking for a gun, honey?" a middle aged woman with bleach blonde hair asked with a little smile.

Stephanie realized she'd walked into the dimly lit shop and was standing in front of the counter. She shook her head and looked down into the case of guns. "I'm not sure." She didn't really know the difference between any of them, they were all just guns to her.

"You looking to carry?" she asked.

Stephanie cringed at the thought. They all looked too dangerous to be carried around, especially by her. "Maybe I'll just get some pepper spray."

Eddie laughed at her and patted her back. He leaned on the counter and smiled at Sunny. "I thought we'd use my gun out on the range. Give her a feel for it so she can see if she wants one," Eddie told her.

"Sure thing, Sweetheart," she winked at him. "Take the third lane."

Eddie smiled at Sunny and pointed at the door. Steph dragged her feet as she followed him. She really didn't want to do this. Really, really didn't want to do this. "Were you flirting with her?" Steph asked.

"Just being nice," he said. "It's always good to be nice to a gun store owner. You wouldn't believe how often I need to speak with her." Steph nodded, that actually made sense, in a cop sort of way.

Eddie opened the door to the range. It was a long, narrow room that was sectioned off by a wall that had numbered stations spaced out every few feet. They sort of looked like little cubicles, except that they looked out at a narrow alley with targets lined up against the back wall. The room was empty, with the exception of one man at the far end of the room. He didn't seem to notice them at all. He just fired, repeatedly.

Eddie tried to hand her a pair of headphones, which she refused to touch. "Ear protection," he grumbled when she looked at him like he was nuts.

"I figured that, but someone else has worn it," she said making a face.

"God, you're a girl," he grumbled.

"One without ear infections and head lice, thank you very much," she told him. He stomped back to the door and grabbed a package of alcohol wipes which were set out with the other sets of ear gear. He wiped the thing down meticulously before handing it to her again. "Thank you."

He nodded and took a wipe for himself, then he cleaned his own set. She laughed at him, "God, you're such a girl."

"What? Shirley will get pissed if I get lice," he explained.

"Mm hmm," she agreed. That was probably true and she didn't blame him for being cautious on account of that alone. Her cousin Shirley was the biggest whiner she ever met. Steph honestly didn't understand how Eddie could live with it, but there must have been something there between them. Eddie always seemed happy enough.

He led her to lane three and went through all the basics. He showed her how to load the thing and get it ready to fire. Then he showed her how to stand and how to aim, though she really didn't want to try. She didn't like guns and knowing how to use the thing wasn't going to change that.

Finally she relented and took it in her hands. It was much heavier than she thought it'd be. She began to think of all the movie scenes with people holding guns on one another for long minutes, they were wrong. Your arms would tire and shake, that'd throw off your aim.

Not that her aim was great to start with, but she didn't completely suck. She hit the torso on all but three shots. That wasn't too bad for a first try. At least she didn't think so. When Eddie finally allowed her to be finished, he made her take it apart and showed her how to clean the thing.

"I think you need a smaller gun. This one didn't fit your hands the best. I think your aim would be more accurate with a smaller gun," Eddie told her.

"I don't want to kill anyone," she told him.

He stopped and looked at her. "If Ramirez comes at you again, it'll be you or him. I'm not thrilled with the idea of you having to use it, but I feel like you need to be prepared to do just that. Don't aim to hurt him, Steph. Aim to kill him. It's the only way to stop a monster like Ramirez," he answered in a low voice.

She shivered at that thought, especially since it came from Eddie. He wasn't a killer. Heck, he didn't even believe in homeowner's shooting home invaders. He said it usually went wrong and she never argued with that. She was afraid that things would go wrong and she'd accidently shoot someone trying to help her instead of the bad guy. "I think I'll get the pepper spray too. Just in case I can't do it," she finally agreed. She knew a gun might be her best bet, but she didn't know if she could actually shoot anyone, even Ramirez.

"Fair enough," Eddie agreed.

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After Eddie taught her to load, fire, and clean her new Baby Glock she purchased it, a box of bullets she wasn't sure she was even going to put into the gun, a lock box, a can of mace, and a key chain attached to a little can of pepper spray. Sunny tucked it all into a big brown shopping bag, which Steph decided she couldn't leave in her car while she stopped to visit with Mary Lou.

Mary Lou met her at the front door, just like all burg wives seemed to do when they had company, even unannounced company. "Hey," she said. "You go shopping? You shoulda called me. Lenny took the kids to his brothers for the game."

Steph shrugged. "Not really. I got a gun."

"Holy shit," she said taking the bag to peek inside. "Why'd you get a gun?"

Steph closed the door and followed her into the kitchen, where Mary Lou already had coffee and a cake waiting for them. Steph wasn't sure how that was possible, another burg housewife mystery she supposed. "Morelli."

Mary Lou laughed and took her seat. "You're going to shoot Joe? What'd he do? Nail Terri Gilman again?"

Stephanie rolled her eyes. Terri was Joe's ex-girlfriend, who he had occasion to work with a few times. Steph had been convinced he was nailing her, but he swore it was all innocent so she let him have a pass…the first time. The second time she dumped him and the third he dumped her for not trusting him. The reasons those break-ups didn't stick she really didn't want to think about. But that was all in the past now. His control over her was done. Over for good.

"No," she sighed. "Vinnie's taking my house, since Joe skipped his court date."

Mary Lou's eyes widened. "Holy crap. So are you shooting Joe or Vinnie?"

"I've thought about both," she agreed. "But I went looking for Joe, to bring him in and save my house, and somehow got caught up in his mess. I think Joe was set up by some bad people and they're after me now."

"You're shitting me?" she asked, but almost instantly understanding showed on her face. "Is that how Joe's car exploded?"

"Yeah."

"And the guy? The hottie in the black car? Is he a good guy or a bad guy?" she asked, clearly having gotten a look the other day when Ranger had dropped her in the alley.

"Good, I think. Don't tell anyone about him, alright? The only thing I got going for me right now is that the bad guys don't know he's helping me."

"Yeah, sure," Mary Lou agreed easily. Steph trusted her with her life. She'd never gossip about something Steph asked to keep a secret. "Why didn't you tell me? Can I help?"

"I don't know. I guess I was trying to ignore it. I was hoping it'd go away."

"You can't ignore someone trying to blow you up." Mary Lou snorted and shook her head. "This isn't the time for one of your trips to denial land, Steph."

"I know. I'm not. I swear. I had a wakeup call last night," she agreed.

"Good." Mary Lou took a sip of her coffee and looked directly into Steph's eyes. The way she did when she was trying to get the truth, not bullshit, out of her. "What happened last night?"

Steph figured Mary Lou heard the same rumor her mother did, that she had a break-in and nothing more. The fact that nothing was leaked by the burg cops was amazing. Or it would be amazing if she didn't know they were covering for Ramirez, not her. "I have a crazy ass boxer stalking me. He visited last night."

"A boxer?"

Steph nodded, "Benito Ramirez. The guy is loony tunes. He jerked off on my window while he threatened me." Mary Lou was staring at her, waiting for more. "He didn't get in or anything. Just threatened me from outside."

"Still…"

Steph nodded her head. "Yeah, it freaked me out. Eddie spent the night and got a security company to come out this morning. I'm living in Fort Knox now."

Mary Lou looked like her mind had just been blown. Heck, it probably had been. This was all weirder than weird. "Jesus."

Steph nodded, she couldn't have come up with a better word herself. "Anyway, that's why I got a gun, the security guys suggested I get a weapon."

"I don't even know what to say. Do you need to hide out here?" Mary Lou offered.

Steph smiled and reached over to squeeze her hand. She appreciated the thought, but at this point she wouldn't dare stay with her. She wouldn't want to put Mary Lou's family in danger. "Joe called to tell me he was leaving town," she finally said.

"He knows you're losing your house?" she asked with complete disapproval written on her face.

"He knows, but he says he can't go back to jail. He says he'll be killed," Steph told her. "I believe him. These guys aren't messing around."

"Still, that's really shitty." Mary Lou would never make excuses for Morelli. She never thought Joe was good enough for her and wasn't afraid to share her opinion on the matter.

Steph wasn't about to argue. She agreed, it was shitty. She dug in her purse and pulled out the flash drive. "He hid this in my house. I think it might be what the bad guys are looking for. Think I can use your laptop to see what it is?"

"Hell, yeah," she said running to grab it from the counter. "Let's see what that fucker's been up to."

Stephanie plugged it in and waited. Unfortunately she couldn't open anything. The files were all password protected, all of them. "Well, this blows," she sighed before stuffing the last of her cake into her mouth.

"You're going to have to try to crack the password," Mary Lou told her. "Try Cupcake."

She tried, but it didn't work, but then neither did Terri or Carmen either, so there was that. "I have no idea what he would have used as a password. I don't even know if this is Joe's memory stick. He could have stolen from the bad guys or something."

Mary Lou nodded. "Give it to the cops. Wash your hands of it."

Stephanie pulled it from the laptop and wrapped her fingers around it. She knew whatever was on there was important and she wasn't going to just hand it over blindly. She didn't know who she could trust right now, especially now that she was sure the police department wasn't safe.

"I can't," she sighed. "I think some of the cops are on the wrong side of this. Until I know who I can trust I have to hang onto it."

Mary Lou looked kind of sick. "This is worse than you're letting on, isn't it?"

Steph shrugged. "I have no idea how bad it is, but it doesn't look good."

Mary Lou took her hand and squeezed it. "What about the hottie?"

Stephanie squeezed back. "He's all that's standing between me and them." Mary Lou opened her mouth, then closed it without comment. "He hasn't tried to kill me yet, which is saying more than anyone else involved."

"Shit," Mary Lou whispered. "Can you trust him, though?"

Stephanie closed her eyes. She'd been asking herself that question over and over all day. "I think I can."

"Be careful," her friend told her. She wished she could be, but it seemed it was time to throw caution to the wind and go with her gut. She'd tell Ranger everything next time she saw him.

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Stephanie stayed at Mary Lou's house later than she planned, but it was so nice to be with someone she could relax with. After their initial discussion she was able to stop worrying and just be Stephanie again, even if just for a little while. But now that she was approaching her neighborhood, the worries were returning.

It was almost eleven, full dark, and most of the houses were asleep for the night. The only thing she took comfort in was the fact that she'd be on camera as soon as she entered her driveway. She knew her security guys would be watching her as she made her way into the house. That was something at least.

Three blocks from home she stopped at a stop sign and signaled to turn onto her street. She was just taking her foot from the break when her passenger door was pulled open. Her momentary shock turned into a scream, but her assailant had his hand over her mouth within seconds.

"Stop screaming," he growled in her ear in a low voice. "Ramirez is creeping around outside your house. RangeMan is there. You can't go home right now." She pushed his hand away and looked over at him. He was wearing a RangeMan hat pulled low over his forehead, dark glasses covered his eyes, and the hood of his sweatshirt was pulled up over his hair, so only his chin showed in the dark shadows of her car.

"Where should I go then?" she asked hesitantly.

"Just drive," he murmured, as he settled into the passenger seat and shut the door.

"Okay, Mr. Manners," she grumbled as she went straight through the intersection and turned down the next street. He was utterly silent, and still. It was disturbing. "How do I even know you're from RangeMan? You could have just stolen a hat for all I know. You could be kidnapping me?"

He turned to look at her then. "It's my hat." That's all he said. Jerk.

She reached into her pocketbook and pulled out the gun, which she'd stashed there when she left Mary Lou's house. She lifted it at him and smiled. "You got an ID?"

Before she could react he pulled the gun out of her hand. Then he popped the clip and growled, "You forgot your bullets."

She glared at the road in front of her. "I didn't forget. I just didn't want to shoot someone."

"Pull over," he demanded. She did what he said, pulling to the side of the quiet residential road. She reached for the door handle, but again, he was quicker than her. He caught her by the elbow and pulled her toward the center of the car. She looked back at him at the same time he pulled the hat and sunglasses off. Recognition hit her immediately. Ranger. "Never aim a gun at someone unless you intend to shoot. You'll get yourself killed pretending this is a toy."

"You…" she stuttered, not understanding his angry tone or the rough manner in which he was treating her.

"What? Saved your ass again?" he bitched at her.

She opened her mouth, but closed it again. She wasn't sure what to say to him. "You work for RangeMan?" she finally asked.

"Not exactly," he muttered back, settling back into the seat.

"Were you following Ramirez? Is that why you were at the gym and my house last night and here tonight?" she asked again, feeling like she was missing something that was right in front of her face.

"Not exactly," he repeated.

"Are you a cop?"

"No."

"A fed?"

"Not exactly," he sighed.

"So why are you following Ramirez then?" she asked.

He didn't answer her. Instead he rummaged through her shopping bag. "Load this," he said handing her the gun and the box of bullets he'd found.

"You load it," she grumbled back, completely irritated with his behavior.

"If you don't show me that you can load it, I'm not giving it back," he told her. They glared at one another, neither budging until he finally pulled the keys from the ignition and turned sideways in his seat. He folded his arms over his chest and stared at her. "Load the gun."

"Fine," she said grabbing the gun. "Then I can shoot you."

His lips tipped up into a smile. "You won't shoot me."

"Why? Because then there'd be no one to kidnap me?" she hissed back at him as she filled the clip.

He leaned over the console, grabbed her chin, and forced her to look at him. Then he brought his face close to hers. "This isn't kidnapping, this is rescuing. You need to learn the difference." She rolled her eyes at him, before trying to push his hand off her face. He finally allowed it, but didn't back away. "Besides, you won't shoot, because you like me."

She laughed in his face. "I don't even know you," she insisted.

He leaned back and shrugged. "I don't know you either, but I kind of like you." She inhaled sharply as a warm fuzzy feeling filled her. Was he admitting to having feelings for her? "Even if you ask too many questions."

And then he went and ruined it. "I do not."

He just lifted an eyebrow at her and smiled slightly. Annoying ass. "You wouldn't be in this mess if you didn't ask too many questions."

She huffed at that. "So how do we know when the coast is clear?" she asked, changing the subject. He laughed in answer. "What?" He just shook his head. "Are you going to answer me?"

"I was just counting," he answered.

"Counting what?"

"Questions."

"You're an asshole," she told him.

"So I've been told. Now, load the gun," he told her.

She loaded the gun like she was shown, then looked up at him. "Happy?"

"How's your aim?"

"Pretty good at this range," she informed him with another glare.

He laughed at her, then went back to scowling. "Put the safety on, then put it in your handbag. With Ramirez around you're going to want bullets in it at all times. An unloaded gun won't stop him," he warned. She begrudgingly agreed with him so she put the gun in her handbag without arguing. He nodded approvingly, then answered one of her questions. "Tank will call when it's clear."

She nodded back, then settled into her own seat, staring straight ahead of her. She had about a hundred more questions running through her head, but she wasn't going to give him the chance to tease her again. She was done talking to him.

He didn't seem to mind the silence. He settled into his seat like he was totally comfortable, though she knew he couldn't be. The car was small, the seat had a spring sticking through the back, and there wasn't much leg room because her shopping bag was sharing the space with his feet.

She couldn't even pretend she was comfortable. He was too close. She could feel his body heat permeating through her sweater where their arms touched on the armrest. When he shifted, their hands touched for just a moment, but in that moment currents of electricity shot through her body and made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. There was his scent too, it was filling the car. It was this fresh, spicy scent that made her insides quiver. God, did he smell delicious.

He looked at his phone and frowned. Then he glanced at her and leaned over, putting the keys into the ignition. She didn't say anything, she couldn't. His other hand was on her knee. He looked into her eyes as he turned the key, starting the car. As he sat up, his hand slipped a few inches higher. Her body reacted without her permission, sending a flood of heat to her doodah. She shivered and let out a little gasp. Or maybe it was a moan? "Cold?" he asked with a knowing smirk.

"No," she whispered back.

He turned the heat up and pointed the vent at her. Her hair blew away from her shoulder, exposing her neck. Then he leaned closer, and his nose touched the newly exposed skin just under her ear. She sighed and closed her eyes. She heard him inhale deeply, like he was smelling her skin. Then he blew the hot air onto her neck. God, he was killing her. "Promise me you'll be safe," he whispered, his lips grazing the sensitive skin on her neck. Heat flooded her body again and she just about came undone when he flicked his tongue across the shell of her ear before saying, "Keep your gun close. Keep your car doors locked. Keep your alarm system armed. Keep this in your pocket."

He pressed something into her hand and closed her fingers over it. She looked down at the lipstick. "What? Why?"

He turned her to look at him again. "It's a tracker. If they get to you, that will allow me to find you," he answered. She heard the promise in his words. He would find her. "Do you promise?" he whispered against her lips.

How could she refuse to do anything in that moment? "Yes."

His lips brushed against hers, just as lightly as they had last night. Her eyes slipped shut and she gasped for air, trying to fight the weird lightheaded feeling floating through her. God, was this what swooning felt like?

"Babe?"

"Mmm," she mumbled blissfully.

"Drive straight back to your house." Then she heard the car door and he was gone.

She looked out into the dark, but he had disappeared. How the hell did he do that? How did he walk away from that?

She shook her head as she reached over and hit the lock on the passenger door. She had a feeling he'd just seduced her into doing what he wanted. How humiliating was that?

She turned her car back toward her house, but it wasn't because he told her to. It was because she had nowhere else to go.


	12. Chapter 12

_**** Sorry about the delay on posting. I think my brain needed a break. I couldn't get into the writing zone until yesterday. I had to completely rewrite Ranger's half of the chapter, the original didn't feel right. So this is the last part of that original 17000, which I edited a good 3000 to the trash bin. Anyway, this chapter wasn't exactly what I originally planned, but I think this will lead us in the right direction for later.**_

_**Also, thank you to those of you who've left me reviews and messages on the last chapter. Loved your kind words. Hope you enjoy the rest of their day here, even though Ranger is a little naughty. Let me know what you think. ****_

Chapter 12

When Steph pulled into her driveway, Tank was there with two other large men. He motioned for her to pull into the garage. Then she met him at the threshold. "Ramirez?" she asked.

He shook his head. "He got away."

She was filled with disappointment. She was really hoping they'd catch him this time. "How?" Tank looked at the other guys, then back at her, like he was deciding what he should tell her. She really didn't care for that. "Just tell me the truth. I can take it."

Tank nodded his agreement, but frowned at having to do it. "We didn't have a crew at your house, since you were out, but we were monitoring the cameras." She frowned back at him, wondering how he knew she wasn't home. "Our team in the office saw Ramirez on camera. He walked up to your front door, dropped a package, then looked right at the camera and waved. We had a mobile crew here within two minutes, but he was already gone."

Great. So he knew she had the cameras installed and was playing with her. She wondered what the point of that was. "What did he leave me?" she asked as she headed toward the front porch.

"Don't touch it," Tank called after her.

She looked down at the cement porch and frowned. It was the pair of heels she'd lost at the gym. "He returned my shoes?" she asked, bending to pick them up.

One of the other men caught her arm. "Sorry, Ma'am, but you don't want to touch that. He evacuated in the shoe."

What the heck did that mean? "Evacuated?" she asked.

Tank cleared his throat and nodded his head, while he pointed at the shoe. "He crapped in it."

"Oh my God," she said jumping back. The other man shined his Mag-lite on the shoes, and sure enough, it was filled with a big, ol' champ sized turd. "Who the hell shits in a shoe?" she cried in outrage. Tank tried not to smile, but he failed. Apparently her language amused him. "It's not funny. Those were nice shoes."

"I wasn't laughin'," he agreed, though it seemed like he was still amused.

"Ugh, that might be the grossest thing I ever saw," she muttered as she turned her back on it.

"He's a sick bastard, without a doubt," Tank agreed.

"He also left a poem," the other man told her.

Tank stepped forward with the note, which was now tucked inside a Ziploc bag. "Hal was the first to respond. He found the note and the shoes here," Tank told her, nodding in the direction of the other man.

Hal nodded his head, then moved his flashlight so it lit the note. _"To my Cinderella. Roses are red, Violets are blue, Security's a joke when The Champ wants you." _ Great.

"Was this left for my benefit or yours?" she asked them.

"My guess would be that it was meant to scare you and make you doubt our ability to protect you," Tank answered honestly.

She looked from Tank to Hal before asking, "Should I doubt your abilities?"

"Never doubt that we will do whatever's necessary to provide the best security we can," he assured her.

"But is the best enough?" she asked, more to herself than to them.

"We just finished clearing the house. Would you mind if we went inside to discuss this?" Tank asked. She really didn't want to go inside, it felt like her privacy had been invaded, again. But she knew she wasn't any safer standing in her driveway.

"Yes. Please come in," she invited, not wanting to be alone in there.

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Once they were seated around her dining table, Tank pulled out his iPad. He showed her the video of Ramirez leaving the shoes and note. She shivered when she saw his face and those crazy eyes staring at the camera. "He's trying to let us know he's not going to stop because we're here," Tank said. "He's an idiot."

"He's insane, not stupid," Stephanie told them. "Please don't underestimate him."

"We never underestimate anyone," Tank assured her. "That's why we will be keeping a crew outside, regardless of you being on the premises or not."

Steph frowned, but what could she say? If they'd had a crew here tonight they could have caught him before he disappeared. Still, she didn't like the thought of someone just sitting outside her home, watching, all the time. It was creepy. But, she supposed, if someone had to be out there, the security guys were a lot better option than Ramirez was. "That seems like a good plan," she agreed hesitantly.

"I'm glad you see things that way," he said with a nod of approval. "We've discussed some other options and have come up with a few other things we'd like to implement."

"Like what?"

"Ramirez is getting too bold. From a security stand point we don't take that lightly. That's why Mr. Manoso would like you to have a personal tracker on your person at all times and a bodyguard with you twenty-four-seven." Stephanie's eyes widened. She already had the tracker that Ranger had given her, did they know about that? Should she tell them? "Ranger gave you the tracker?" Tank asked with a little smile, like he'd read her thoughts or something.

"Yeah," she answered taking it out of her pocket.

"Good. Keep that on you. It's our best shot of finding you if they manage to get past everything else."

Everything else…like the bodyguard? A man that followed her around all day? Some stranger that would be in her house with her, all the time? She'd have no privacy. She couldn't imagine that. She couldn't imagine being all alone with one of these large, scary men either. Well, perhaps she could imagine being with one of them. But Ranger didn't seem the bodyguard type. A bodyguard was just too much to handle on top of everything else. "I can't afford a bodyguard," she blurted out, figuring that was the best way to get them to drop it. Plus, it wasn't a lie.

Tank ignored her like the bodyguard was already a done deal. "Hal will spend the night with you."

She looked at Hal. He was sitting there with a smile on his face, like none of this was even phasing him. He was a decent looking guy in his late twenties, with a muscle on muscle build. In fact, he was so built that he hardly had a neck. He kind of reminded her of one of those neckless dinosaurs with the big horns, not that he had a horn. He was just a monster. He definitely looked strong though, but he needed to be more than just strong to take Ramirez? She wondered if he had the same lethal quality she sensed in Tank and Lester, or even Ranger. She wasn't sure. Then again, did it matter? Even if he was a good bodyguard, did she want to live with him? "I can't pay him," she insisted.

Tank still didn't take the hint. "Mr. Manoso said…"

Mr. Manoso! He couldn't even bother to show his face while he ordered her about. Well, to hell with him. "He can't force me to take a bodyguard that I can't afford," she growled at them, finally having a place to direct her anger.

"He said…"

"I don't care what he said. He won't jack up my bill without my permission," she insisted.

Tank rubbed his eyes. "He won't…"

"We'll just see what he has to say for himself," she grumbled. "Pushy bastard. I knew this deal of his was too good to be true. This is how he's going to start bleeding me dry, with all these extras, right?"

"Ma'am, please," Tank pleaded, but she was beyond caring. Manoso wasn't going to push her around like everyone else has been. She was paying his ass. He'd do what she said.

She pulled her phone out and dialed the number she'd been given. "Hello," he answered.

"Mr. Manoso?"

"Yes."

"This is Stephanie Plum."

There was a pause, then it sounded like he released a deep breath. "How may I help you?"

"Your men are pushy," she informed him.

"Are you tattling on them, Ms. Plum?" he asked in a deep, cultured voice that made her feel like an idiot for calling him.

She rolled her eyes. Pompous Ass. "They were just telling me your plan. I can't afford a full-time bodyguard. Order them to leave, or something," she grumbled.

"No. Their orders stand."

"But…"

"You are not paying for this, Ms. Plum. I am. I'm not allowing Ramirez to get his hands on you," he interrupted. "I assumed that keeping his hands off you was still your priority?"

And with that she felt thoroughly put in her place. He just knocked away all her arguments and left her feeling about an inch tall. "This is too much," she answered, hoping he couldn't hear the quiver in her voice.

"It's barely enough," he returned in a slightly softer voice. One that wrapped around her insides and squeezed her until she could barely breathe.

"But…"

"I would never put a price on your safety, Ms. Plum. I suggest you don't either." The words hit her like a bat across the head. They echoed something Ranger said that first day. "Take my help freely, because it will be given regardless."

She didn't like the way he said that. It sounded like a threat, but could she argue with him? She didn't want to be here alone. Even Halosaurous over there was better than nothing. "Fine."

"You're welcome," he answered before hanging up without a goodbye.

She turned off her phone and glanced up at Tank, who was looking at her expectantly. "Hal can stay."

"Good," he said with a smile. "I'll get this reported to TPD. You get some rest."

She nodded back as she watched him leave the room. Hal remained behind, watching her from across the table. "So, do you need a pillow and a blanket or something?" she asked.

"Nah, I'll stay awake," he said standing. "Do you mind if I walk the house to get a feel for the layout?" She shook her head no. "Then I'll just stay in the living room and watch some TV?"

"Okay."

"Yell if you need anything," he offered.

"Sure."

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Stephanie opened the door to her bedroom and cautiously peeked inside. No one jumped out, so she flipped on the light and looked around, expecting Ranger to be waiting in the shadows, but he wasn't. After a quick search of her room she knew she was alone.

Oddly, that didn't give her the comfort she thought it would. She knew she should take a little comfort in Hal being downstairs, but it wasn't the same as having Ranger in his chair. God, she'd give anything for him to be there right now.

Well, maybe not the Ranger that was in her car earlier. She wasn't sure she wanted to see that Ranger again. He was too intense. And angry. Was he mad at her? She hadn't done anything wrong. Maybe he was angry at the situation? Or his stupid boss. That'd make sense. Mr. Manoso probably ordered him away from her or something. That's probably why he wasn't here.

Jerk. She still hadn't met him, but she knew without a doubt that she didn't like the man. She was sure he was one of those power-suit-wearing, over-educated, look-down-on-the-world types just like her ex-husband. He certainly spoke to her that way. She didn't like being made to feel like a slow child. She didn't like giving into his orders either. If only they hadn't made sense. God. She'd like him to walk into the room right now. She had a loaded gun at her disposal.

Not that she wanted to kill him. No, maybe shoot him in the foot or the butt or somewhere that'd hurt his ego a little. Now there was a fantasy she could get behind. Mr. Manoso groveling at her feet, except in her fantasy he looked a lot like Ranger. Ugh. Why couldn't she separate them in her mind?

She shook her head. She knew why, because she couldn't stop thinking about Ranger for more than two seconds at a time. In fact, right that moment she was thinking about the way he heated up her car earlier. Ugh, if the man didn't jump her soon she might just combust.

Maybe she should jump him? Of course that'd depend on her keeping a level head and that just didn't happen when he was touching her. Nope. She started stammering and panting like a virginal, school girl on a first date. Yeesh. He probably thought there was something wrong with her, with the way she carried on.

What she needed was to find a way to get the upper hand again, like she had when she was making her bed. That had thrown him off in the same way all his nuzzling and whispering in her ear did to her. So maybe she should show a little more skin? Or wear her tight jeans? Or maybe show some leg, he seemed to like touching her legs?

She looked back at the chair as she dropped her handbag onto her bed. None of that would matter if he didn't show up again. So how in the world did she make him come to her?

She supposed that was a question for tomorrow. Today was already too long. She pulled the flash drive from her pocket and squeezed it in her hand. She definitely needed to keep a level head or she'd never have to chance to tell him about the darn thing.

She looked around the bedroom, but all her hiding spots seemed too obvious. Then it hit her. These were men looking for it, so she took it into the bathroom. She pulled the tampon out of the applicator and flushed it. Then she tucked the flash drive inside the empty applicator, pushed it back into the plastic wrapper, and returned it to the box. It wasn't visible at all, so she put it back under her counter and finished getting ready for bed.

She walked across her bedroom and stood in front of the French doors. Was Ranger out there somewhere? Was he watching her now? She pulled her shirt over her head and shimmied out of her jeans, before walking back to her dresser for an oversized tee shirt to sleep in. Her imagination was running wild with her. It was almost like she could feel his eyes on her again.

She popped the bra hook and slipped the straps down her arms like she was doing it for a lover. And maybe her fingers grazed her nipples as she lifted the tee shirt to slip it over her head. So what if she gave into her little voyeurism fantasy, it wasn't like anyone was really watching.

She walked back to her bed and picked up her handbag. Then she pulled out the loaded gun and set it on her nightstand. Then laid her cell phone and the lipstick tracking device next to it. She shook her head in disbelief as she looked at the items spread out before her. How had this become her life?

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Ranger hung up his phone and squeeze it in his palm. The woman was going to drive him fucking insane. He wanted to charge into her house and tell her exactly why she needed the security he was offering her, but he knew he couldn't reveal himself. She wasn't ready to hear the truth. Not yet.

Instead, he sat in his car and looked up the dark driveway at the brick house. It was an ordinary house, in a middle class neighborhood. It looked no different than its neighbors, but it was different. This was the house he put all his time and money into protecting, for her.

Earlier tonight, he'd sat in his apartment, watching her vehicle's tracking device move around town. She was out there alone, barely protected. Sure he had a crew following her, but they could be easily separated by a professional. Alpha could grab her and be gone by the time his guys could respond. He didn't like it. It was driving him nuts not having an actual visual of her.

So what did he do? He drove to her friend Mary Lou's house and sat there watching the house like some sort of love struck creeper. Then it got to be ten-thirty at night and she was still out. What was the point of having a top notch security system if she wasn't going to be home to use it? Christ, she didn't even have a safe vehicle. That heap of shit she called a car would probably kill her before Alpha could get his hands on her.

He was pissed. He wanted to knock on the door, toss her over his shoulder, and take her somewhere she'd be safe from not only Alpha and Ramirez, but her own stupid actions too. Of course, his fantasies of kidnapping her were interrupted when the control room called in an incident at her home location.

Ramirez was there. He didn't set off any alarms, instead he stood on the stoop and stared into the camera. He was taunting them, challenging them, warning them that he wasn't giving up. Ranger raced over there, but he was already gone.

They combed the neighborhood. They watched the local surveillance cameras they'd set up around the perimeter of her home and they didn't see a thing. It was like he vaporized once he stepped into the shadows. Where the hell was he and how didn't they see him?

Angry didn't even begin to describe what was happening inside him. He was furious. He didn't like being played as a fool and that's exactly what Ramirez had done. He'd left something so completely traumatizing and disgusting that it would surely haunt her. Christ. Who the hell shits in a shoe anyway? That's what he demanded Tank answer when he got a look at the scene. Of course Tank had no more answers than he did, but he found the question amusing. Asshole. It wasn't a funny situation.

It really wasn't funny when he realized Stephanie was on the way home and they hadn't yet cleared the area. He didn't want her walking into a situation where she was unprotected. That's why he hopped into her car and had her drive away from the house.

He hadn't meant to be a dick, but his barely contained rage was about ready to burst. How the hell did Ramirez slip through their fingers again? How could she have stayed out so late without protection? Didn't she realize how dangerous the situation was? It wasn't like he'd held much back from her. He was forthright about Ramirez and Alpha both. How the hell could he get through to her? Could he?

The situation was so reminiscent of the one Carmen had been involved in that it scared the shit out of him. He'd tried to protect Carmen, but she refused the cameras and the bodyguard and wouldn't think of being placed in a safe house. She didn't want to leave her apartment. Just like Stephanie.

That was where the similarities needed to end. He wouldn't allow Stephanie to become another victim. He would save her whether she wanted him to or not. He wasn't going to be nice about it. He'd use every strength in his book to bend her to his will, because he had to. He couldn't lose her.

So he did use all his tricks. He bullied her. He intimidated her. He threatened her. He seduced her. He felt slightly guilty for doing it, but if it kept her gun loaded, her trackers in her pocket, and her alarms armed, then he'd willingly live with the guilt.

There were a couple other things he felt a lot guiltier about. One was using that fake, arrogant Carlos Manoso voice with her. It was a personality he portrayed to perfection, but hated with every fiber of his being. He'd learned to act roles and play characters so well he could he slip in and out of any of them at will. He had to if he wanted to survive some of the jobs he was given. It didn't make him like it any better.

There were times he wondered which personality was really him. Sometimes he wondered if he even existed anymore or if he'd been stamped out by these other faces he played. The funny thing was, when he was alone with Stephanie he never felt like he was playing a part. He was himself with her and she saw through his clothing and his accents like they didn't exist. That's why he hated that he couldn't tell her the truth, that Ranger and Carlos Manoso were one and the same.

He didn't delude himself. He knew she'd figure it out, probably sooner rather than later. She was smart and she could read him like a book. Hell, part of him wondered if that one phone conversation with Carlos clued her into the game he played. He hoped not. He needed her to trust him, not hate him for everything he'd done to her, as both men, tonight.

The other things he still felt guilty about were those hidden cameras. But even as guilty as he felt, he still turned on the one in her bedroom as soon as he ended the call between them. He just wanted a visual of her, to make sure she was alright. He knew she was upset. He heard it in her voice. He wanted to comfort her, go to her, but he couldn't. He'd almost molested her in the car earlier. If he got into her bedroom there was no way he was keeping his hands to himself.

But then she walked into the bedroom. He could see the strain in her face. She really was on the edge of breaking down. It about killed him that she searched her room, which he thought was for bad guys at first, but then her eyes landed on that chair. His chair. Had she been looking for him? Then she walked to the window and looked out. Was she looking for him?

His hand was reaching for the door handle when she started to strip out of her clothes. And damn. The camera was positioned in the corner of the room, near her bathroom door. It looked out at the room, directly at the bed, though he could see the entire room in the shot. He had a perfect view of her delectable, little ass as she shimmied out of her jeans, leaving her in lacy, aqua panties that didn't contain her cheeks. God, he could look at that all day long.

Then she turned away from the window and he caught a glimpse of the matching bra, which was pushing her breasts up and together to form an amazing about of cleavage. He wanted to buy her one in every color of the rainbow and never allow her to wear a top over any of them. He could keep her locked in his apartment, in her underwear, for the rest of their lives. Now that was the dream.

Or it was until she popped the clasp and slipped the bra off like she knew she was on camera. Her breasts were perfection. The creamy skin that had been pushed up and together sprung free and fell into their natural position, high and perky, just like they were waiting for his hands to take them. And her nipples, they were lovely, little pink pebbles that seemed to be begging for his teeth. He was killing himself by watching, but he couldn't look away.

Then, as if her body wasn't enough he noticed the look on her face. That's what did him in. It held the same look she got when he touched her earlier. Was she fantasizing about him while she stripped? God, he was fantasizing that she was. Fuck if he wasn't ready to take his cock out of his pants right there in the car. He didn't, but he was reserving the right to remember everything later, while alone in his bed.

He looked at the house and knew he could let himself in. Hal would never question it. Thanks to Santos, all the guys were calling her his woman anyway. Fuckers. If only she were his woman. Then he wouldn't be watching her like some pervert. He could be in there making love to her like he wanted to be. Damn it. Making love! Unbelievable, but there it was. That's what he wanted.

He watched her crawl into her bed wearing nothing but an oversized tee shirt and he closed his eyes as he shut the app down. He couldn't torment himself anymore. He couldn't invade her privacy anymore. She didn't deserve that.

He started his car as he thought over her security. She had two outdoor crews and Hal inside, plus around the clock surveillance on the cameras. She'd be alright. Ramirez wouldn't be back tonight. He made the point he wanted to make by leaving his gift in front of the camera. He was trying to fuck with her head. He was trying to make her doubt that his men could protect her properly. He was trying to scare her, so she'd get sloppy. Most importantly, he was casing the house, trying to get a look at her security system and what kind of response time the company had.

Ramirez was just getting started, he knew that, but it wouldn't be tonight. It'd be tomorrow, and the next night, and the night after. He'd keep coming for as long as it takes to get what he wants. Unfortunately what he wants is Stephanie. And she was the one thing Ranger wouldn't allow Ramirez or anyone else have. She was his.

God. He couldn't stay here. If he did, he knew he'd go to her. If he went to her, he'd seduce her. He had no control where she was concerned. Yet, he knew he couldn't take her to bed until she knew the truth about him, that he was both Ranger and Carlos. He didn't want to deceive her. She had enough of that in her life already.

So he'd stay away until he could give her the truth. Soon. He'd have to make it soon, because he was absolutely going to combust if he didn't have her soon.


	13. Chapter 13

_****Thank you all for the reviews on the last chapter. I really appreciated it; that was a rough one to get through. **_

_**I thought this was going to be a couple chapters, but decided to do it all in one shot. So it's super long and I did the best I could, so please forgive any weird proofreading errors. I got a good start on the next chapter, but if it gets super long I probably won't have it done until next weekend. **_

_**Thanks again, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one…it gets a little nuts.****_

Chapter 13

Stephanie woke to her Grandma Mazur's voice. "Stephanie, wake up. It's time for dinner. Your father's already at the table."

Steph sat up and looked around, momentarily unsure of her surroundings. Then her eyes landed on Hal, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, and reality came rushing back. "I'll just be a second," she assured her grandma. "I can't believe I dosed off."

Hal smiled at her and shrugged. "You needed it."

She stretched her arms over her head. She had needed it. She hadn't slept much in the last three days. Instead, she spent her nights sitting on her couch, watching old TV shows with Hal. Not that she didn't try to sleep, but there were the weird dreams that woke her, her anxiety that kept her staring at the ceiling, and the strange phone calls from Ramirez at all hours of the night that triggered both. It had definitely been awful. Especially since she hadn't seen or heard from Ranger either, so she was still sitting on Joe's evidence and had no idea what to do with it.

Yes, three long days with no contact from Ranger. And three even longer nights, since she foolishly waited for him to make his appearance during each of them. She fantasized about him coming through her balcony doors, telling her that her alarms couldn't keep him away from her. Or about him standing below her window trying to get a glimpse of her like some love sick Romeo kept away by his evil boss.

She may have taken those fantasies further, stepping out of her clothes, touching herself while she pretended he could see her, and, at some point, she may have dreamed that his lips replaced her rolling fingers. She knew she shouldn't keep thinking about him, but she didn't feel guilty about her fantasies either. They weren't hurting anyone. Plus, they were the only time she could escape her reality, which had her completely on edge.

It'd also been three days since she started living with her bodyguard, Hal, whose only time away was to sleep. Not that she had time alone while he rested like she expected to. No, that time was covered by a man named Bobby.

She never complained about her lack of privacy though. It wasn't like either of them were hard to get along with. They were nice, decent men who kept things professional, but friendly. So she tried to remember that they were just doing the job they were hired to do. It wasn't their fault that their boss had taken away her privacy without a second thought. But she couldn't make a complaint against Carlos Manoso for completely interrupting and taking over her life like he had either. He told her his priority was keeping Ramirez's hands off her, and that he'd accomplished, so far.

It'd been three days since Ramirez had shown his face on her property, but he'd made sure he wasn't forgotten. Each of those nights he called her. First it was just heavy breathing. Then her name was cried while he moaned into the phone. And, finally, last night he called while he was with another woman. Steph could hear her crying, begging him to stop hurting her, but Ramirez didn't stop. He called her Stephanie Plum and did something that made her scream like she was being killed. Maybe she had been.

Hal finally took her phone away and silenced it last night, forcing her to give him control of the thing. He said he didn't want her to answer any more of those phone calls. She didn't argue, she didn't want to answer them either. But even with the phone out of her hands for the night, she couldn't stop thinking about what she'd heard Ramirez do. It was too much. It was all too much, bodyguards, stalkers, hidden evidence, and men that wouldn't show up when she needed them to. It was overloading her mind until she thought she'd breakdown.

She figured that's why she couldn't sleep in her home. It was the center for all the things haunting her. Here though, snuggled on the couch between her dad's easy chair and Hal's reassuring presents, while the room was filled with the aroma of her mom's pineapple upside down cake baking, she felt safe enough to close her eyes. And apparently sleep.

She finally stood and offered her hand to Hal, like she could actually help him off the sunken couch. "Were they horrible to you?" she asked, knowing how intrusive both her mother and Grandma Mazur could be.

"Nah. I watched the game with your dad. They've been holed up in the kitchen all afternoon," he assured her. "Though I'm pretty sure your grandma eyed up my junk."

She rolled her eyes at that. There was no doubt in her mind that she had looked. Grandma liked to look. "At least she didn't grab it."

"You're not kidding, are you?" Hal frowned.

She only laughed and shook her head in response as she walked away. He followed, cautiously.

Her family was already seated, leaving two empty seats next to one another. Steph took the seat next to her dad, leaving Hal with the seat near her grandma. He frowned even harder as Grandma leaned over to take a look at his behind as he sat down. "Ma'am," he nodded to her.

"How did you and Stephanie meet again?" Grandma Mazur asked.

"He's my bodyguard, remember?" Steph answered, having gone through the introductions earlier.

"I thought you said he was her new boyfriend?" her dad asked her mom. "Why the hell do you need a bodyguard?"

Steph had been trying to avoid telling her dad any of this, that's why she'd told her mom most of it in the kitchen. "Some people have been harassing me, because they're looking for Joe. No big deal."

"No big deal? You don't get a bodyguard for no big deal," her dad yelled, but was handed the chicken and immediately got down to filling his plate. Nothing bothered Frank Plum when there was food on his plate. "You better protect her from whatever that good for nothing cop did to her."

"Yes, sir," Hal agreed.

"I warned you about that Morelli boy, didn't I?" her mom added. "I hope you're done with him this time."

"I am," she agreed. "Can you pass the potatoes?" Her mom handed her the bowl, she took a scoop, then handed it over to Hal.

"Thank you for having me, Mrs. Plum," Hal said. "This looks delicious."

"Thank you, Hal," her mother beamed. "So you work in security?"

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"Are you married?" she continued.

"No, ma'am," he chuckled, as he plopped a big spoonful of mashed potatoes on his plate. "I haven't found a woman who can cook like this yet."

Her mother's smile turned to a frown as she gazed across the table at Steph. Steph recognized that look. It was the that's-why-you-need-to-learn-to-cook look.

"So you got a gun too?" Grandma Mazur asked. He nodded to her. "Can I take a look at it?"

"Maybe after dinner," Stephanie answered.

"I just wanted to see if it was bigger than the little bitty gun I found in her bag," Grandma said, as she reached over to the sideboard and pulled Stephanie's gun from her purse and waved it around.

"Holy crap," her dad muttered. "Put that down you crazy, old bat."

"Grandma, stop, it's loaded!" Stephanie warned as she aimed it at the far wall.

Hal was already out of his chair, diving for her when she fired. The chicken blew apart at the same time Grandma fell from her chair. Hal somehow ended up with the gun in one hand and Grandma in the other. "Well, that little gun has some power," Grandma muttered.

"You're going to a home," Dad yelled before looking at her mother. "She's going to a home."

Her mom didn't seem to hear him though. She was too distraught over her dinner being destroyed. "Mother, the chicken," she yelled, while she started to pick up pieces of the food that had splattered the table.

"I sure showed that bird," she laughed.

"You sure did," Hal agreed as he lifted her back into her chair. Then he turned the safety on the gun and stuffed it back into Stephanie's purse before handing it to her. "You alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine." Steph couldn't say the same for the rest of the family, they were all in fits. "You wanna get a pizza?"

"Sure, just let me call this in to the control room," he said with a look around the room and a head shake. "No way will they believe this."

Stephanie would like to say she didn't believe it either, but things like this just seemed to happen when her family got together. They're prone to crazy, or maybe just Grandma was. Either way, it usually wasn't dull.

"He seems very nice," her mother told her once he exited.

"I'm not dating the bodyguard," she warned, hoping she'd let it go.

"Why not? Whitney Houston fell in love with that sexy bodyguard of hers," Grandma told her.

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "That was a movie. I'm not going to fall in love with my security guy."

"Just think about it," her Grandma smiled with an eyebrow waggle. "All that muscly, beefcake, packin' heat, and ready to sacrifice himself for you. That's hot stuff."

Steph sighed. She couldn't deny she'd thought about that, a lot. It just wasn't Hal she thought about. It was her missing-in-action hero. Where was he anyway? And why hadn't he come to see her again? "You need to lay off the dirty movies," she warned her grandma. "Mom, I'll call you tomorrow. Okay? Hal and I are just going to grab a pizza and head home."

"He's staying with you? Alone?" her mom asked. What, was it 1960?

"He's my bodyguard. He kind of needs to be with me, to guard my body." Yeesh.

"He could guard my body," Grandma added with a grin.

"I'm leaving."

"Be safe," her mom called as she headed out the front door in search of Hal.

He was waiting on the stoop, speaking with one of their shadows. That's what she called the guys that sat in their car all day watching her house or her car if she went somewhere. "Sorry about that," she told them.

Hal shrugged, then put a hand on her back to lead her to his SUV. "Eight years in Special Forces, I saw a lot of things blown up, but that was the first time I ever saw a roast chicken explode."

Stephanie laughed as she crawled into the passenger seat. "Special Forces? So how'd you end up here in Trenton?"

Hal smiled at her. "One of my friends got into the security business and offered me a job when I got out of the military."

"Mr. Manoso?" He nodded yes, but didn't elaborate. "Is he always so…"

"Demanding?" he supplied.

"Yes, and pushy and maybe a little superior sounding," she finished.

He laughed then. "Seems like you nailed it."

"How can you be friends with him?"

"He's a good guy, especially to have as a friend," Hal told her with a smile. "Worse to have as an enemy."

Great. Just the type of guy she wanted to be beholden to…not.

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When they got home with the pizza, Hal called another crew to come sweep the house before they entered. They were finally settled in the living room with the sausage pizza between them. Stephanie took a pull from her beer and dropped her head back onto the couch cushion. She couldn't help thinking about what Ramirez would do or say tonight, because it wasn't a question of if he would bother her anymore, it was how.

She knew she shouldn't let him get inside her head, but she was afraid he was already there. God, she could still hear that woman's screaming voice. She didn't know if she'd ever forget it, or if she even should. Whatever happened to that woman had been Steph's fault, in a way. Maybe Ramirez wouldn't have raped her if he hadn't been trying to scare Steph. And he wouldn't have been trying to scare her if she hadn't barged into that gym after all the warnings she got not to. It was her fault he was after her. Everything was her fault.

"It'll be over soon," Hal told her.

She opened her eyes and rolled her head to face him. He gave her a reassuring half smile in return. "I hope so. Not that you're not the best company I've had in ages, but I'd like to get back to real life," she said woefully. Real life. She wasn't even sure what that was anymore. She just wanted to live without fear. Was that even possible?

"I hear you," he agreed. "Believe it or not, we're not usually on this high of alert either."

"What? No other clients being stalked at the moment?"

He frowned at her and put his pizza slice back in the box. "This is more than being stalked, Steph. And no, the boss made you our top priority. He has most of the crew working on this. He refuses to let anything happen to you, and neither do the rest of us."

She snorted, "Manoso just wants to find Ramirez."

He gave her an odd look, like he couldn't believe she thought what she'd said. "No, he said your safety is the first priority. Above any other job we have, we keep you safe. Getting rid of Ramirez will just be a benefit…to humanity."

Stephanie hardly believed that. If they'd been talking about any of the other guys she could maybe understand it. She felt the concern Tank, Lester, Bobby, and Hal had for her and the situation. Manoso was another story. She hadn't even met him yet. And, frankly, after that phone call the other night she didn't want to. She wasn't sure why he'd tell his guys she was their top priority, maybe he just wanted to look like a good guy or something, but she had no doubt that he didn't give a shit about her personally. Men like him can't care for anyone but themselves. It went against their nature.

"Mr. Manoso…" she started to argue, but the alarm panel sounded.

Hal was off the couch, with his gun in hand. He immediately looked at the control panel, showing the breech came from the kitchen. He pointed in that direction, just as she heard someone open the backdoor. Hal tossed her handbag at her, it held her gun and phone. He pulled her against his chest and hissed into her ear, "Lock yourself in the bedroom, press your panic button, and hide."

"What about you?" she whispered back. She didn't like the idea of leaving him behind. What if he got hurt? Should she cover him?

"Go, go, go." He pushed her in the direction of the stairs and held his finger to his lips, warning her to be quiet.

She ran up the stairs as quietly as she could. She closed and locked the bedroom door behind her, then pushed the panic button that was on the wall. She was worried about Hal. She couldn't hear anything from below.

Crap. She didn't know where to hide. She looked around the room and noticed the empty chest at the foot of her bed. She kept a few extra blankets and sheets inside, but she'd fit in with them. She climbed in and closed herself in the dark. She pulled one of the blankets up over body, hoping it'd conceal her a little better.

She needed Ranger. Where the hell was he? This was when he usually came to the rescue and she needed a rescue more than ever. She turned on her phone. Why the hell hadn't he given her his number? Damn it. She didn't have Ranger's number, but she did have an emergency number, programmed under A…for Asshole.

She only hesitated a second before hitting dial. She really hoped Hal was right about him.

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Ranger was parked in his spot across the street from Stephanie's house, the same spot he'd occupied for the past three nights. Tonight he arrived just in time to watch her and Hal return with a pizza. They were smiling and chatting like a couple returning from a date. He couldn't say that made him happy. He knew Hal would never be unprofessional with her. That wasn't the problem. No, the problem was that he wanted that time with her for himself. More than that, he wanted her to want to be with him the same way. It was disgusting. He was disgusting.

Then they went inside and he was left to wonder what they were doing. Were they eating in the kitchen or in front of the TV like they had the night before, when they ordered Chinese? He didn't like wondering. He didn't like sitting here. He didn't like watching her house without being able to see her. Every minute of the past three nights he sat here wanting more than anything to go inside, but he hadn't given in.

He couldn't give in. He was still in the same position he'd been in three nights ago. If he went in there he knew his hands would be on her in a matter of minutes. He didn't try to convince himself that he had any control left, she'd somehow stolen it from him. He didn't like that she had so much power over him, but she did. It'd been sixty-nine hours since he last touched her and his hunger hadn't diminished in the least. He was preoccupied with her every minute of the day. He wanted her, but he couldn't have her, not yet. Not until he found Ramirez and removed this threat. Then maybe he'd give into the need to tell her the truth.

He knew she'd be angry when she found out he'd kept things from her. He'd practically lied to her about his identity. He'd also forced all this security on her by being a bully. Not to mention his spying. God, could he ever tell her everything he'd done?

He didn't want her fighting back in anger. She could endanger herself. He felt that was a distinct possibility given the way she reacted to Morelli lying and trying to force her to leave home. What he'd done was almost as bad. Hell, maybe she'd see it as worse.

He couldn't tell her he was Carlos yet. It was for her own good. So he'd stay away. And hopefully by staying away he'd prolong the inevitable, that she'd put it all together on her own. That'd be far worse for everyone, especially him. She never trust him if she found out the truth.

He was brooding over that when her alarm went off. He grabbed his gun and jumped out of his car. He was across the lawn, circling her house, looking for the point of entry before her panic button was engaged. The next thing he knew his phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at it, to check the number. It was her.

He hit talk and put the phone to his ear. "Hello."

"Mr. Manoso. It's Stephanie Plum. My alarm just went off. Hal's downstairs, but I hear a struggle." He heard it too. "Fuck. Someone's on the stairs," she whispered fiercely.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"Upstairs. In the master bedroom. I'm hiding in the chest at the end of the bed," she whispered again. "Is someone close?"

"Yes," he answered. "We're here."

"He's kicking the door. Shit."

"I'm downstairs. Stay hidden until someone comes for you." He turned off the phone and walked through the open backdoor. Suddenly Zero, Slick, Santos, and Ram were flanking him.

"Boss," Ram nodded.

"Upstairs," Ranger nodded back. Ram and Slick headed for the stairs. "Secure the ground floor. Find Hal."

"Got it," Santos said taking the lead with Zero behind him.

Ranger followed the same path up the stairs. By the time he reached the top, Slick had one man secured on the ground in cuffs while Ram had two others held against the wall at gun point. Ranger wasn't taking any chances that these three were alone. He checked every inch of the second floor before joining the others. He covered their captives while Ram cuffed and frisked them both.

"We're secure up here. Picked up a trio," he radioed to Santos.

"We got another pair down here. They were tossing the place," he said, confirming what Ranger already noticed. They were looking for something, and it wasn't Stephanie this time.

"We joined the party, boss," Tank announced. "Neighborhood is secure. Found their van a couple blocks away. Looks like they snuck in through the neighbor's backyard."

Damn it. He was going to have to offer her neighbors some security deals of their own. That was the only way to secure the backyard better. He didn't think she'd like removing her trees and shrubs and installing an electrical fence, though he thought it sounded like a great idea. He'd certainly keep it in mind.

"Collect the garbage and see if it'll sing for you," he confirmed. Tank could take care of the rest. He had his woman to deal with.

He pulled the earpiece from his ear and walked back into the bedroom, shutting the broken door the best he could. Then he went straight to the chest at the foot of her bed. "Steph," he said with a tap to the lid. "Babe. You're safe now."

The chest pushed open and she sat up, letting the blanket that was covering her fall to her waist. Her shirt pulled down with it, exposing the top halves of her breasts. He was thankful for the sunglasses he was wearing, because he knew his eyes were feasting on her soft, white flesh. Shit.

"Ranger, thank God," she said standing, still clutching her phone and her gun, one in each hand. She seemed unaware of the fact that he could clearly see the lacy black bra. She tried to climb free of the box she stood in, bouncing and shifting in the most tantalizing way. He watched in fascination as she bent and those breasts strained against the lace, like they were trying to escape. Shit. He was fairly certain he was close to drooling.

Then she stumbled, falling directly into his arms. Those half exposed breasts pressed against his chest. The only thing separating their skin was his damn tee shirt. How he wished he could dispense of it and feel the heat of her skin against his own. He closed his eyes and took just a moment to memorize the way she felt against him. Then he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. He placed her gently on the side of her mattress and looked down at her.

Her eyes were wide and she looked startled, but she stared back at him unwaveringly. He tried his best to keep his eyes on hers, but he felt them dipping to watch her chest heaving erratically. She was clearly breathless, from him or the situation he didn't know. "Are you alright?" he questioned.

"Yes," she answered with a sharp nod. Then dropped her gun and phone onto the mattress like they'd suddenly burned her hands. He picked up her handbag and held it out for her, knowing she usually stored them inside. She took it from him with shaking hands and placed the phone inside. The gun she seemed afraid to touch, and left it sitting on the bed. She stared at it as she started talking again, "They didn't find me. I heard him start to go through my things. I was worried he was going to look in the chest. I was going to shoot him, but then you came in." He didn't miss the husky sound of her voice. He wanted that voice to mean she was as affected by him as he was by her, but that was wishful thinking. She'd been through an ordeal here. She was probably just frightened, a normal person would be.

A normal person wouldn't be lusting after a stranger he was sworn to protect either. Obviously being normal wasn't something he could claim to be. Christ, his mental state alone was another good reason to stay away from her. She deserved someone better than him. Someone normal and safe. He'd only endanger her more than she already was.

Shit. Why was he even thinking about this? A relationship with her wasn't a possibility. Not now, probably not ever. He needed to focus on the job, not the woman. The job. Keeping her safe. That was what was important. Not what his raging hard-on or achy heart wanted. Her.

He crouched down in front of her and took her hand. Her head turned so she could look back at him. God, the look in her eyes was so trusting and innocent. The very things that fascinated him about her from the beginning. He wished he could preserve those things forever, but he was afraid he was going to ruin both. "It wasn't Ramirez," he told her. "We apprehended three men up here and two downstairs. They were tossing the place rather than looking for you."

She shook her head with wide eyes. "Why?" She looked around her bedroom at all the clothing and papers tossed across her floor. Her eyes widened and her breath caught, before turning ragged. She was starting to hyperventilate. "Shit. Shit. Shit," she muttered to herself. She was shaking and tears fell down her cheeks, silently. She was panicking. Crap.

He moved to the bed and pulled her onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her as he forced her head between her knees. "Breathe," he ordered her. "Just breathe. I have you." He held her close and rocked her back and forth. He wasn't sure what he was doing. It was like his response to her was pure instinct. He knew he shouldn't hold her this that, but how could he stop himself when it felt so right? He knew he shouldn't make her more promises either, but without thought he heard himself whispering to her, "You're safe. I'll keep you safe. No one will hurt you."

He wasn't sure what the hell possessed him to say those things. He was a realist. He knew even with the best laid plan there was always a chance of casualties. He knew not to make a promise he couldn't keep, but he wanted to keep this one. More than anything he wanted those words to be true. He couldn't allow her to be hurt. She needed him and he wouldn't let her down. He wouldn't.

Then, as if his behavior up to that point hadn't been questionable enough, he did the unthinkable. He lifted her face to his, wiped her tears away with his thumbs, and kissed her sweet lips. It was just a soft press of lips, nothing heated, but he felt it right down to his toes, which curled in his boots. What was wrong with him? Why would such a simple thing affect him so hard? He finally pulled back and looked at her, knowing he'd done the wrong thing again. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, as if telling him not to be sorry. Then wiped at the rest of her tears. She looked like she was about to say something to him, but changed her mind. Instead she stared at him, like she was looking through him. His heartbeat was thudding in his ears, making him feel almost dizzy. Why was he feeling panicky? "I don't know your real name," she finally said.

His heart felt like it stopped and dropped into his stomach, making him feel sick. Had she put it together? Did she know that he was on the other end of that phone call just minutes ago? "Ricardo," he answered out of shear panic and self-preservation. He wanted to smack himself as soon as it come out of his mouth. Why did he tell her that? Why didn't he just come clean now that he had the chance? Fucking idiot. Now he'd have to deal with this too.

"Ricardo?" she asked like she hadn't heard him right. Damn it. He was sure she expected him to say Carlos. And he almost had. That would have been the wisest and easiest thing to do. He had no idea why he said Ricardo instead. Not that it was a lie, but it wasn't a name he wanted associated with RangeMan, at all.

Shit. He was a fucking idiot. She could place him both on the streets and here in her room, as Ranger, in a RangeMan uniform. She was also on the verge, if not already to the point, of figuring out he was Carlos Manoso. And if that wasn't bad enough, now he gave her his real name. The one that could be tied to his family. To everyone he gave up to protect when he went into his government work. He'd just handed her the power to destroy everything he'd built for himself.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. What if she mentioned this to someone? He couldn't let that happen. With anyone else it wouldn't have been a question. He would have eliminated them to protect himself. He couldn't do that with her. Oh, God. What had he done? What could he do?

He had to get himself together and get the hell out of there before he did something else he'd regret. "I shouldn't have done that. You just looked like you could use a kiss," he said trying to play it off as nothing. He needed her to believe that it meant nothing to him. That she meant nothing. Maybe she'd forget him if she never saw him again. He could disappear.

She smiled at him then and it turned his insides upside down. Fuck. There was no way he could do it. He couldn't walk away from her. "Thank you for saving me, again, Ranger."

He closed his eyes and took a breath, before standing. He stepped away. He couldn't touch her. He had to go. He had to get himself back in control. "I had to, it's becoming a habit."

8888888888888888

She couldn't help but stare at him. What the hell had just happened? He'd kissed her, then he shut down and looked like he was ready to run for the hills. Was it the question? Why would he freak out about telling her his first name? It couldn't be that big of a secret. Could it? And if it were, why would he give her his real name?

She wished he'd take those dumb sunglasses and that ball cap off. Who wears a ball cap and sunglasses at night? Someone hiding, in disguise. Someone on a stake out perhaps. Then it hit her, he was here too quickly. "Were you outside watching me?" she asked. His features went to stone and he stiffened, looking guiltier than before. She narrowed her eyes and looked him up and down. "Have you been here every night?" Not that he answered. He just stood there, still as can be, and stared back at her.

She looked him up and down, trying to figure him out. He was clad in the same black cargos, boots, tee shirt, and hat as the other men from RangeMan, but there was something different about him. It was in the way he held himself. It was the aura of power that radiated off him. The other guys were scary in their way, but they had nothing on Ranger when he was dressed like this. She couldn't imagine anyone messing with him, or ordering him to do anything. How could he work for this company? For a guy like Manoso? "Why were you watching me? Is this your job? Or was it something else?" she asked again.

He still didn't answer. He just stared at her for the longest time, then he finally looked away. "Perhaps," he answered in a low voice. Perhaps what? Ugh.

She wondered what it was he was hiding from her. Why couldn't he answer the simplest question? She sensed it was something big and she didn't know how to feel about that. There was something about him that terrified her. Yet there was another part of him that made her feel so safe. Secure in a way she'd never felt before. She thought about his sweetly whispered words and the way he held her so gently just moments ago. He said he'd protect her and keep her safe. No part of her doubted that. Maybe it was because he'd saved her repeatedly, or maybe it was just the adrenaline still coursing through her body, but she felt a desire for him unlike anything she'd ever felt before.

She stood and inched toward him. "I think I like the idea of you watching me," she whispered to him as she reached out and put her hands on his biceps, his very large, very hard biceps. Damn. "How do you make me feel safer than anyone else ever has?"

Of course he didn't answer. She didn't expect him to. She didn't expect him to react at all, but she saw his eyebrow arch above the dark frame of his sunglasses and a smile seemed to tug at his lips. She wanted to see that smile grow and light his face up.

His almost smile was so distracting that it took her a moment to notice that he'd pulled her up against his body. God. How hadn't she noticed? There wasn't enough space between them for even air to pass. Her fingers moved from his arms to his chest as she glanced up at him.

She felt the tension in his muscles, like he was struggling not to move. His fingers gripped her sides in a firm hold, like he was holding onto something he didn't want to let go of. She stared at his face, noticing the muscle in his jaw twitch like he was grating his teeth to keep from moving his lips. What was he thinking? Did he want her as badly as she wanted him? There was only one way to know. She needed to see his eyes. So she reached up and pulled the sunglasses and hat off. His dark eyes were fixed on her, the intensity of his stare sent a shiver through her body, puckering her nipples and sending a damp rush between her legs. Holy crap. She definitely had her answer, but why was he fighting it?

She dropped the glasses and hat to the floor before reaching up to tug his hair loose from the tie at his nape. She slid her fingers through the silky strands just like she imagined doing since the first time she'd looked at him. He was her Ranger again, not whoever he was trying to hide in that disguise. "Why won't you let me in?" she whispered to him. "You can trust me, Ranger."

"Because you can't trust me," he growled. Then the next thing she knew, his lips were crashing down on hers. Her first reaction was to push him away. She never liked to be overpowered that way, but as his lips moved expertly over hers, she found herself responding. Hell, she melted against him in complete surrender.

As soon as she kissed him back he gentled his lips. One of his hands snaked up into her hair, tilting her head back. He seemed to like the new angle, probably because it gave him complete control over the situation. Not that he seemed all that in control of himself. His lips moved over hers in a frenzy, licking, nibbling, sucking until she was moaning and rubbing her body against his. Then his tongue pushed into her mouth, deepening the kiss even further. The sensuous strokes explored her mouth and had her turning into a puddle in his arms. If his arm hadn't been wrapped around her waist she knew she would have fallen to her knees.

But she needed more. She had to own him as much as he did her. So she touched her tongue to his, swirling and tangling them together in a heated battle for control. He tasted like heaven and she knew she'd never get enough of this, of him. Her fingers pulled on his hair, holding his mouth to hers, then she sucked his tongue into her mouth. In and out, wishing it were another part of his gorgeous body. He must have had the same thought, because he moaned into her mouth and thrust his hips against hers. It was like she'd flipped a switch with that one move, sending them both into a fury.

She was completely intoxicated by him. The feel of his hard chest rubbing against her own made her nipples ache in the most delicious way. Her hands moved up and down his back, pulling his tee shirt up so she could get at his bare skin. In turn, his hands skimmed down her sides, ignoring her breasts unfortunately, but instead gripped her backside, squeezing and fondling it before lifting her to her toes. He used that grip on her cheeks to haul her closer than she thought possible in this position. Close enough that she could feel his hard length rubbing against her stomach. God, they were panting into one another's mouths, both so needy for more.

Then he spun them, reversing their positions as he walked her backward. The new position trapped her against the wall. She didn't even think to argue as he lifted her higher, settling himself between her legs. She clung to him, with arms and legs wrapped around him. They rode each other's bodies while they devoured each other's mouths.

She ground her hips into his, finding the perfect spot against his zipper. She was so close. Her head dropped back as his lips moved to her neck, roughly feasting on her sensitive skin. "Oh, God, Ranger. I want you," she whimpered. "Please…" She knew she was begging, but she wanted him inside of her desperately.

He suddenly dropped her to the ground and stepped away. They stared at one another from the few feet that separated them, but to Stephanie it felt like miles of distance, like he had put a wall up between them again. He suddenly wasn't the same man that had treated her so kindly, so tenderly. This man was menacing and radiated brutality. "You want me to fuck you?" She flinched at his angry words. How could he ask that after what they'd just shared? "I'll fuck you if you want, but you need to know I've nothing more to offer someone like you," he growled in a voice that was still so filled with sexual heat that she almost said yes, until she really heard what he'd said.

The impact of his words felt like he'd punched her in the gut. Someone like her? That's exactly what her ex-husband said to her. _"Of course I cheated. How could you ever be enough? How could I love someone like you?"_ And Joe, he treated her that way for years. He was always the prince of the burg and she was treated like she should just be thankful he dated her. She should be grateful he came back to her after whoring with other women. She wasn't burg enough. She wasn't Italian enough. _"I love you, Cupcake. We have a good time, but I'm not going to marry someone like you." _

No. She was never good enough, never enough. She felt the anger seep into her veins. This man didn't know her. He had no reason to judge her that way. And the sad thing was she was ready to believe he was different. She had already started to trust him. Yet here he was, just another asshole.

"_That's_ all you have to offer?" she laughed harshly, determined to make him hate her as much as she hated him. His mouth was set into a tight, hard line. His face looked like he was ready to kill someone. Good. She hoped her words hurt him just as badly as his had hurt her. "Well, that's too bad, because that was something I could get anywhere. I expected a little more _heat_ from someone like you," she growled at him as she snatched her bag off the bed. "Is it safe to leave this room yet?" She didn't wait for his answer, she yanked the door open and came face to face with Lester Santos.

"It's all clear," he said stepping aside. "Hal got hit in the head, but he's fine. He wanted you to know."

She was relieved that Hal was alright, but her anger surpassed everything else. "I need some air," she growled as she pushed passed Lester. She needed out of that room. Away from Ranger. Away from everyone. She needed to get out of that fucking house.

She wasn't sure where she was going, but anywhere was better than here.


End file.
